


Quantum Fidelity Decay

by xYoSa



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bisexual Bruce Banner, Bisexual Tony Stark, D/s, Dom Bruce Banner, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Mush, Fluff and Smut, Good BDSM Etiquette, Hand Feeding, Insecure Tony, Kink Negotiation, Light BDSM, M/M, Science Boyfriends, Science Bros, Sub Tony Stark, good communication, past bad bdsm experience, references to past non-con, understanding Bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 12:37:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17601497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xYoSa/pseuds/xYoSa
Summary: Tony likes to sub. Likes to surrender and be controlled. Unfortunately his first and only D/s relationship, twenty years ago, was not a healthy one. So when he and Bruce get together and Bruce makes it clear that he needs to be, well,in controlin the bedroom, Tony is excited to sub once again—but he also has doubts because of past hurt. Bruce needs to handle him with care.





	1. Gene Dosage

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place about eight months after Tony and Bruce meet, but is slightly AU in that Tony has split with Pepper for unspecified reasons (but it was amicable, as it always is in my headcanon when I need Pepper out of the picture for plot reasons).

Tony is on Bruce’s floor of the tower, watching movies with him for the third evening this week (and the twelfth time overall in the past two months).

Somehow, he and the doctor have fallen into a routine of leaving the common floor as early as politely possible when the team gets together there to wind down after a mission.

The first time they left early, it was to go to the lab to analyze a potentially serious flaw in one of the attack patterns of Tony’s smart missiles that Bruce had noticed while he’d been monitoring the battle from the quinjet.

The second time, Tony wanted to show Bruce some suggestions for improvements to the hulkbuster armor. And while it really could’ve waited until the following day, Bruce seemed as eager as Tony to get down to the lab. They finished early that evening, and Bruce invited Tony to his floor for dinner.

Tony hadn’t expected the invitation to involve Bruce actually _cooking_ for him, but he found himself sitting down to the best meal he’d had in ages, eyeing the doctor with newfound esteem in between bites of feijoada. Their conversation, which had transitioned easily from shop talk to personal things, felt so natural that it took Tony an hour to realize that he’d totally shed his Tony Stark smoke screen persona and was showing his real self to another person in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Since Pepper.

After that, kicking back at Bruce’s after a mission, watching movies or just sitting and chatting, just became a regular, pleasant routine. And if their easy companionship might have looked like more than friendship to the casual observer, neither of them has openly questioned or delved deeper into it.

Until tonight.

Tony’s SHIELD psych profile may have him labeled as emotionally stunted, but he sure as hell knows how he feels about the man sitting beside him. He’s also pretty sure Bruce feels the same but is just too shy to make the first move. Tony has never been one to dance around this sort of thing, and it’s usually pretty easy for him to bounce back to friendship if he finds that the other person doesn’t feel the same way. So it’s time to test the waters.

He gets up to grab a soda from the fridge. When he returns, he sits so close to Bruce that their shoulders are touching, and then he rests a hand on the doctor’s thigh. Bruce slowly turns and looks straight at Tony, who pretends to be intently focused on the TV for a moment longer despite Bruce’s very unsubtle gaze filling his peripheral vision.

Slowly, Tony’s eyes, and then his face, turn toward Bruce and he regards him with an innocent look that belies the bold move he just made. But when Bruce smiles, Tony can’t help but mirror it.

“Is that so?” Bruce asks, as if Tony just said “I like you” out loud. Which he might as well have; the air is practically vibrating with the phantom echo of the words.

“Yeah. That’s so,” replies Tony. He turns to fully face Bruce, propping an arm on the back of the couch so he can rest his head on his hand and give Bruce a cheeky smile.

“A bit sudden.”

“Nah. Don’t act so surprised. You’re a smart guy, I think you knew.”

Bruce fails to hide a smile. “I’ve had my suspicions, for the past few weeks at least.”

“Mm,” Tony hums noncommittally.

“Oh. Longer than that?”

“Mmmhm.”

“Really. Since when?”

“Oh, long time. Weeks. Months. Alright, I admit it: since the day we met. Just took a while to really realize it. You know how it is, folks bond over high-stress situations and it can make them all confused about their feelings, or at least I think my old shrink said something like that. So I wasn’t sure for a while. But then you invited me up here and wine-and-dined me, and it just sealed the deal. I’ve basically treated every movie night with you as sort of a date since then. You?”

“Long time,” is all Bruce says, his voice low. His eyes drop to look at Tony’s mouth.

Their faces are very close. Simultaneously, they lean forward until their lips meet. First it’s tentative, almost shy, and they break apart for a moment for a breathy laugh, but then their eyes meet and they kiss again in earnest. Hands start to join in, cupping a cheek, combing through hair, running hungrily up and down each other’s chest and back.

Tony is the first to get bolder, leaning forward to gently push Bruce onto his back. Tony follows without breaking the kiss, his body now pressed against Bruce’s as he continues to kiss him deeply. He can feel Bruce’s hard length pressing against the thigh Tony has between his legs.

But after a moment, Bruce suddenly gasps against Tony’s lips and pulls away. Tony props himself up on his elbows to look at Bruce, whose face is openly displaying his desire, but also something else. Sadness? Regret?

“I’m sorry,” he pants. “I don’t think we can…”

 _Oh, fuck,_ thinks Tony. He should’ve thought of that. “Is it the other guy?”

“No. Well, yes. In a way. I’d hoped that I— _he,_ would’ve—but…” He closes his eyes. “Shit.”

“What is it?”

Bruce lets out a long, rueful sigh. “I’m sorry. But, if this is going to work…I’ll need to be—well—in charge.” The peculiar way in which he emphasizes the last two words leaves little doubt about what he means.

For a second, Tony just stares. In the span of two words, Bruce has unknowingly exhumed Tony’s deepest desire, long thought dead. His soul is suddenly suffused with that yearning that he buried and mourned years ago, that deep ache to be with someone who could be—as Bruce put it— _in charge_.

The feeling is so strong and sudden that he can’t disguise the wanton need written boldly across his face.

Bruce notices. His expression morphs from regret to brazen desire in a heartbeat, and Tony’s heart damn near stops.

Bruce grins and sits up, pushing Tony backward so he’s the one now pinned under Bruce’s body.

Tony can’t stop a groan of need from escaping his throat. He wants this. He needs this, though he thought he’d gotten over it twenty years ago. Well, fuck what he thought; he’s a big enough man to admit he was wrong.

But when Bruce takes Tony’s wrists in his hands and pins them to the couch above his head, he flinches and utters a frantic “ _Uhh_ …”

Bruce freezes, wide-eyed, then quickly releases Tony and sits back, stammering an apology. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I crossed a line. I—I thought…”

“No no, don’t be sorry. You thought right,” says Tony. He tries to play it off. “I don’t know what happened. Just a reflex.”

It’s a bald-faced lie. He knows exactly what happened. Fucking _Gene_ happened, almost twenty goddamn years ago. And worse, Tony _let_ him “happen” for almost a full year. It left him gutted and unwilling to submit to anyone in a relationship again. It's the main reason he started becoming the showrunner in the bedroom, focusing on the other person's pleasure and thus gaining his famous playboy reputation. The sex was satisfactory in its own way, but never as fulfilling as he wished. But even now, twenty repressive years later, along comes a shot at fulfilling this desire with someone Tony actually trusts, and Gene still has to show up and ruin what could’ve been a good thing.

Bruce doesn’t look convinced by Tony’s hasty reassurance. “Let’s just take a breather for a minute, okay?”

Tony shifts to sit up and Bruce backs up until he’s leaning against the opposite arm of the couch, still looking shaken at the fright he gave Tony.

“This is all kind of sudden,” Bruce says, “even if we’ve both felt this way a while. If you want, we can just relax and enjoy the rest of the evening, and talk about all… _that_ …later.”

“No, no, I’m—I’m good,” Tony assures him. “Besides, there’s no way I’m gonna be able to focus on anything else until I know whether we have something viable here.”

“I agree. Alright, then. Let’s talk about what you want out of this.”

“I want…” Tony’s hand gestures vaguely, “what you said.”

“For me to be in charge,” finishes Bruce. His gaze is unwavering and Tony can’t hold it for long.

“…Yeah.” He directs his answer to the couch cushion in front of him.

“So I gathered. But that can mean a lot of things. Let’s talk specifics. How far do you want to go?”

Tony isn’t sure what to say. He’s pretty sure he knows what he wants; he just doesn’t know if it’s possible to get there anymore. All he wants is to feel that _feeling_ again. That unnamed, addictive feeling of being owned, controlled, put at someone’s mercy. But at the same time, he’s fairly certain he can’t tolerate Bruce doing most of the things Gene used to do to him. Fuck, who is he kidding; he can’t even tolerate having his hands held down by Bruce, someone he trusts with his fucking _life_.

So how is this even supposed to work?

Bruce is watching him intently. Since Tony hasn’t answered him yet, he continues, more carefully: “Listen, Tony. Yes, I like to be in charge…and I _need_ to be, when we’re talking about a—well, a sexual context…but obviously that only applies within the boundaries you define. I am sorry for before. I misjudged.”

“It’s okay, don’t be sorry. You just surprised me. Alright, yes, let’s talk about boundaries.” Fuck it. Tony has just decided that he’s going to give this a shot with Bruce. However wrong he might end up being, it’s worth trying. And Bruce is a damn good person to test the waters with, since Tony already knows and trusts him. And likes him. A lot. Tony will draw clear boundaries, so it won’t end up like last time. Worst case, it doesn’t work out, he and Bruce go back to being just friends, and Tony lays this desire to rest for good.

“Alright, then,” says Bruce, his expression brighter. “Let’s start with the easy part. What are your hard limits? Things you just don’t like and will never want to do no matter how far we take this?”

Tony suppresses a shudder at the reminder of the things he had to endure for Gene in order to feel the good parts. The parts that were just good enough to keep him coming back.

He takes a deep breath and answers Bruce. “Uh. Blood and cutting. Whips. Bodily fluids. That sort of thing.” He swallows hard and averts his eyes. “And, uh, choking. Not being able to breathe.”

Bruce nods, and Tony is bolstered to see that he doesn’t look disappointed at all. “Understood. What about milder things? Bondage? Blindfolds? Pain without whips or cutting? Just being dominated and obeying orders?”

“Yes, mostly, to all of the above,” Tony answers. Then, quieter: “Especially the last one.” It’s only his years of experience dealing with tough, embarrassing questions on camera that keep him from blushing at his own words. He’s never discussed this kind of thing openly before. With Gene, it just _happened._

He spares a glance at Bruce and is reassured by the half-smile that has crept onto his face.

“Well,” the doctor says, eyes never leaving Tony’s, “that can certainly be arranged. My proclivity for control gives me a natural advantage in that department.”

This time, Tony can’t stop the rush of blood to his cheeks. His insides lurch with pleasure at Bruce’s tone as much as his words.

“What did you mean by ‘yes, mostly’?”

How does Tony explain it?

“I don’t know. I think I might…I _do_ want those other things. The…” his hand flutters in the air, “bondage. Blindfold. Maybe even some pain. I do. Eventually. I just…”

Bruce understands and finishes Tony’s sentence: “You need it to be with someone you trust.”

Tony nods and looks away, his mouth suddenly dry.

Something seems to click into place in Bruce’s mind. He looks hard at Tony. “And you didn’t trust the last person you did this with?”

There’s no point in deceiving him. Tony gives a very slight shake his head.

“Can you tell me a bit about that relationship? If you want.”

Tony half-shrugs. “There’s not much to tell. He knew what he wanted, and he took it.”

“And he crossed the line?” Bruce’s voice is quiet. “He went past your hard limits?”

Tony swallows, and gives a tiny nod.

“What about your safe word?”

“He…didn’t like when I used it,” Tony murmurs.

“ _He punished you for using your safe word?_ ”

When Tony doesn’t answer right away, Bruce closes his eyes, almost looking ill. Tony doesn’t like that look, so he decides not to tell Bruce that Gene sometimes opted to ignore his safe word altogether.

“Tony,” says Bruce when he’s capable of speaking again. “You know how wrong that is, right?”

Tony does, of course he does. He’s perfectly aware of how unhealthy his relationship was. But he’s not in the mood to get into all the reasons why he was too stupid to run away from it. Why he put up with the whipping and the cutting, and yes, even the choking, so he could enjoy the good parts. Because there _were_ good parts.

“Yeah. I do know. It was a long time ago, and—anyway. Can we talk about something else?” He hopes he doesn’t sound as distressed as he feels.

“Of course. Let’s talk about us instead.”

Tony nods, relieved that Bruce isn’t pushing the issue.

“If you’re still sure you want to do this…” Bruce pauses to give Tony a chance to confirm it.

“I am, yes. God yes. I hope I didn’t give you the impression that I’m not. Just—yeah, it was a bad relationship, for a lot of reasons. I didn’t exactly get what I was hoping from it. But…I still want that. Though I haven’t tried anything like it since then. And yeah, I didn’t expect _this_ at all when I made that pass at you, and I would’ve been fine just being—well—”

Bruce smiles. “Vanilla.”

“Right. That would’ve been fine with me. I…well…I wanna be with you, like I said, and that part at least…well it’s been a long time coming. But I want to even more now that you…you…y’know.”

Bruce holds up a hand. “Okay, I got it.” He looks fondly amused at Tony’s rambling explanation. “I believe you. And I’m glad. Because I want to be with you too. Even more now, considering you…” he quirks an eyebrow and imitates Tony’s word: “ _y’know_.”

Tony finds himself chuckling along with Bruce at the latter’s light teasing. The atmosphere of the room becomes much more relaxed. Bruce, who has been at the far end of the couch since they started talking, leans over to pick up his soda and takes the opportunity to move a little closer to Tony.

“So.” Bruce’s warm smile fills Tony with reassurance. “Now that we’ve established that we’re on the same page, we’re going to start slow. I want everything we do to be enjoyable for both of us. You like subbing, you want to let go and give me some of the control so we can have some fun together. Right?”

“Right.” Tony’s self-consciousness is waning thanks to the ease with which Bruce is talking about all this.

“That’s good. But it doesn’t have to be total control. Not even close. There’s a lot of fun we can have without restraints, pain or blindfolds. And later, if you want to add any of those in, we can reconvene. The bottom line is, I’m not entitled to anything from you. I only want what you’re willing to give. And in return, I won’t abuse that privilege. I’ll always stay inside your boundaries. Which you can redefine at any time, no questions asked.”

Tony shouldn’t be surprised at the level of consideration Bruce is showing for his comfort and feelings. Bruce is not Gene. But his mind is still reeling at just how careful and thorough Bruce is being. It’s giving him high hopes for their future.

“Sounds like a fair deal,” is all he says.

“On that topic, are there any other limits you want to discuss? I’m all ears.”

“No. Not at the moment.” The truth is, there are several other unpleasant things Tony remembers and would rather not do again, but he decides not to lay them out for Bruce just now. He doesn’t want to scare him with a long list of dislikes. He can just address them as they come up. Bruce already said they’ll start slow, so he should have ample opportunity to bring it up before it becomes an issue.

Bruce seems unsure of whether he believes him, and Tony is worried for a moment that Bruce will call him out. But eventually he just nods.

“Okay. Just remember you can tell me anything, at any time, and we’ll stop and reevaluate together. I want to make this work. With you.”

“Me too,” Tony assures him. “And I will.”

“Good. Okay, last question: what’s your safe word?”

Tony blinks. He almost forgot about that. He’ll need a new word; he doesn’t want to use his old one. He ponders for a moment. He knows it needs to be something that will get Bruce’s attention. Something he wouldn’t normally say. Maybe a word with personal meaning to Tony. A word that symbolizes bringing out the big guns to put an instant stop to things—

“Jericho.”

“Jericho. Alright. Mine is cherry blossom.”

Tony is confused. “You have a safe word?”

“Of course. Things could affect me in unexpected ways too. It doesn’t happen often, but still.”

Tony hadn’t considered that. Nothing ever seemed to affect Gene negatively.

“And, just so we’re clear,” Bruce continues, “I don’t think we should do anything more tonight. This all happened pretty fast.”

“Agreed,” concedes Tony.

“But are you free tomorrow evening?”

“I am now.”

Bruce barks a laugh. “Okay. Good. We’ll talk tomorrow, then. You can come by and we’ll have an actual date, instead of a ‘post-mission movie night.’” They share a short laugh at the reminder of all their get-togethers over the past two months which were just a cover-up for their undeclared feelings for each other.

Bruce continues: “And I’ve got an idea for something light we can try, that I think will take you where you want to go.”

The words go straight to Tony’s groin. He swallows and nods. “I, uh…yeah. Sounds good.”

“So, um,” says Bruce, “do you want to finish the movie?” Jarvis kindly paused the movie for them a while ago.

“No, I should go. Let’s finish it tomorrow.” There’s no way Tony can focus on a movie right now.

“Okay. Can’t wait,” says Bruce, his voice soft.

He leans in and they give each other a light peck on the cheek. Tony says goodnight and stands to leave. It all seems a little anticlimactic.

He’s halfway to the elevator when Bruce says his name and gets up from the couch. Tony turns to see Bruce walking toward him with purpose.

“One more thing.” He’s standing right in Tony’s space now, all confidence, looking him square in the eye, appraising him. He’s never looked at Tony like that. Tony’s eyes widen and he freezes, transfixed by that look.

“Close your eyes.”

He says it lightly, not like an order at all, but Tony surprises himself by obeying without hesitation.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

Tony’s breath catches for a second, but he does as he’s told, clasping his hands behind his back as his heart rate spikes and heat flares in his stomach. He stands paralyzed, breathlessly awaiting whatever’s next.

Bruce takes his chin gently in his fingers and leans forward, and now Tony knows exactly what he’s about to do. A slight smile touches his lips before Bruce’s lips cover them in a soft, chaste kiss.

"G’night.”

“G’night,” Tony whispers. He opens his eyes and the moment is over.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ll have to bear with me, as in addition to the title of the fic itself, each chapter will be titled after a geeky science or engineering term that’s a double entendre for what happens in the chapter. Our boys are science bros, after all! I’ll explain the definition of each title in the author’s notes, though the definition doesn’t have much to do with what happens in the chapter; it’s really just the name of the term that’s important, which I chose to sum up the chapter as well as possible.
> 
> For this chapter: “gene dosage” in biology means the number of copies of a given gene in a genome.
> 
> Anyway, that’s the chatty chapter done with. The next two are mostly written and will be have quite a bit more action.


	2. Prévost Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Tony have their first real date, and it ends with some fun.

The next day, Tony spends hours tinkering in his lab, trying to concentrate but having to stop every so often to just sit there in disbelief at the good fortune that suddenly landed in his lap in the form of Bruce Banner. He’s too old to be this infatuated with someone, yet here he sits, eyes closed and chin in his hand, imagining last night’s conversation for the hundredth time, and imagining that goodnight kiss for the thousandth. The kiss that had him heaving deep, shaky breaths as soon as he got into the elevator, and then had him jerking off in the shower less than five minutes after that, coming embarrassingly quickly.

The lab door opens and Tony sits up, snapping out of his reverie.

“Am I interrupting?” It’s Bruce.

“No, no. Come on in.” He smiles as Bruce— _my boyfriend_ , Tony thinks dazedly, definitely not feeling like a gushing teenage girl—approaches. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Likewise.”

They kiss when Bruce arrives beside him. It lasts a lot longer than the quick peck they were initially aiming for.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about you pretty much all day,” Bruce admits.

“Likewise,” says Tony, parroting Bruce’s word with a laugh.

“Have you been in here all day?”

“Yep. Just doing suit maintenance, nothing big.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Now that you mention it, I am.” He looks at the clock. It’s six in the evening and he forgot to take a lunch break again.

“I made Korean food, if you’re interested.”

“You cooked for me again? Aw, Bruciebear, you shouldn’t have.”

“Well, it worked so well the first time, how could I resist?” Bruce jokes. “How about you come up in an hour?”

“I will be there with bells on.”

“Hm, better skip the bells. It’ll probably create quite a racket.” He gives Tony a pointed look that makes his cock stir and his breath hitch. “But I do suggest bringing a change of clothes with you. Something comfortable.”

Tony just stares at Bruce, and then nods slowly. How is Bruce doing this, putting Tony under his spell with just a few words?

Bruce gives him another kiss and turns to leave. “See you at seven.”

Tony doesn’t pull himself together in time to answer him before the door closes.

He waits a few minutes to be sure Bruce has caught an elevator, then races out of the lab and up to his penthouse to get ready, skin tingling in anticipation of whatever Bruce has planned.

* * *

 

He arrives at Bruce’s apartment a fashionable five minutes late. He’s given impromptu speeches on national television and faced down enemies who outnumbered him a hundred to one without breaking a sweat, but he can’t calm his nerves just now. After his minor freak-out last night, he’s not exactly sure what he can and can’t handle. He’s hoping he’ll enjoy tonight, but it’s comforting to know that he can at least put a stop to it anytime, and that Bruce will heed his safe word.

He puts on his game face and steps out of the elevator.

Bruce is in the open kitchen area of his living space, uncorking a bottle of wine.

“Hi,” Bruce says with a smile. He holds up the bottle. “Kerner okay?”

“Perfect,” says Tony. Bruce gives him a kiss and hands him the wine to pour, while he starts assembling two bowls of bibimbap.

“You made all this?” Tony asks, looking in disbelief at the various pots and pans on the stove containing rice, seasoned vegetables, fried tofu and sweet chili sauce.

Bruce shrugs. “I like cooking.”

“Careful, or I may never leave,” Tony jokes.

Bruce is about to reply, but appears to think better of it. He just smiles and brings their bowls to the table, while Tony follows him with the wine.

The food is delicious, as Tony knew it would be.

“This is nice,” says Bruce after a few bites. “Not needing the pretense of winding down from a mission to get together. Finally.”

Any nervousness Tony felt before his arrival has long since evaporated, and they enjoy their meal with the same easy conversation they’ve gotten used to these past two months.

Afterward, they bring their wine with them to the couch, and it’s not long before their conversation is abandoned and they’re making out like two horny high schoolers.

A short while later, Bruce breaks away and studies Tony's face a moment, as if he’s trying to make up his mind about something.

His hands, which were cupping Tony’s face, slide down to his shoulders and come to rest on his chest, pointedly avoiding his arc reactor.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he says softly.

It’s starting. This is actually happening. Tony manages to keep his poker face on as he places his hands behind him, but inside, he’s reeling with anticipation.

Bruce’s gaze snaps to his hand which is still resting on Tony’s chest. He clearly just felt the sudden jump in Tony’s heart rate. Shit. So much for playing it cool.

He looks into Tony’s eyes, alert and calculating. “Is that excitement or apprehension?”

“The first one. Don’t worry.” He manages to make the admission without blushing.

“Good. We’re going to have some fun. Trust me.”

“I do.” He injects as much sincerity as possible into the words, because he genuinely does trust Bruce.

Bruce smiles now, and leans in to kiss Tony some more. As Tony’s hands are now clasped behind his back, he can’t touch Bruce, so he tries to put as much feeling into the kiss as he can. It’s odd how open and vulnerable it makes him feel, but he welcomes this new sensation.

Bruce’s hands aren’t under the same restrictions as Tony’s, and he’s making use of them as they continue to kiss, cupping Tony’s cheek, ghosting his fingers over his neck, running down his back, and now, squeezing his thighs, close but torturously far from his cock, and hey, when did he get hard?

“You can move your hands,” he says, and Tony unclasps his hands and brings them to his lap. Bruce looks him in the eye and adds, “We can stop anytime you want. Okay?” He waits for Tony’s nod before giving him the gentlest of nudges on his chest to hint that he wants him to lie back. Tony lets him guide him onto his back.

Bruce moves to straddle Tony’s hips, but without letting his full weight press onto Tony. Even through Tony’s thick arousal, as he catches his breath from that make-out session and his mind whirls with excitement about whatever’s coming next, he recognizes that Bruce is making an effort not to trap him, and he’s immensely grateful.

He reaches out to run his hands on Bruce’s chest, stomach and legs, anywhere he can reach, but Bruce stops him.

“Hands up, where I can see them.”

Tony reluctantly lets Bruce go and rests his hands, palms up, on either side of his head.

Bruce leans forward and for one brief moment, Tony worries that he’s going to pin his wrists down like he did yesterday. But he only places his hands beside each of Tony’s to support himself as he leans forward to hover over him and look him up and down in a way that takes Tony’s breath away.

“I’ve imagined this moment for a long time.”

“I…” Tony swallows. “…haven’t. I didn’t dare. I never would’ve dreamed…” He surprises himself at his own frank admission.

Bruce smiles at that. Instead of leaning in for another kiss, he strokes Tony’s cheek with a light finger and says “Tip your head back.” Tony lifts his chin, exposing the tender flesh of his neck in a motion that somehow feels much more like surrender than it would’ve if Bruce had used his own hand to tilt Tony’s head up.

“Good,” Bruce murmurs, and proceeds to lean down to kiss and suck Tony’s neck so gently that it makes him gasp and squirm. But he forces himself to keep his head tilted back, letting Bruce touch him where he wants, wanting to do exactly as Bruce says.

After a minute, Bruce pulls away to look at him. “Is it too much?”

“No, not at all,” breathes Tony.

“Do you want more?”

Tony nods, knowing his arousal is written all over his face.

Bruce puts a finger on Tony’s cheek and slowly turns his face to the right so he can suck his earlobe, and holy shit, how did he know that that’s one of Tony’s most sensitive spots?

Tony’s eyes flutter closed and he can’t quite stifle the little sound of pleasure that escapes him when Bruce’s lips and tongue touch his skin. Without thinking, he reaches out and puts a hand in Bruce’s hair, but the action makes Bruce stop and say “Hands where they were,” softly into Tony’s ear.

Right. He forgot.

He puts them back and Bruce continues his ministrations, the sucking now turned to nibbling, gently pinching Tony’s earlobe between his teeth to more easily swipe his tongue back and forth over it, making Tony squirm again. His cock is at full hardness now and begging for some friction. But Bruce is still only just barely touching Tony’s hips where he’s straddling him.

Tony shifts his hips slightly to grind a little on Bruce’s ass, which makes Bruce lift up more until he’s just out of reach. Tony gives a little groan of frustration.

Very deliberately, Bruce lifts one knee and nudges it between Tony’s legs. “Put your legs apart.” Tony does, and Bruce shifts both of his own legs so that now he’s kneeling between Tony’s spread legs instead of straddling him. Any friction on his straining cock is now impossible.

Bruce gives him a mildly amused look. “Patience,” he says, sounding far more calm than Tony feels. “If you hold on a little longer, I might just let you come before you have to beg.”

All the air is expelled from Tony’s lungs at those words. Good God, Bruce knows exactly how to make his mind blank out.

Bruce tilts Tony’s head the other way now so he can give his other earlobe the same treatment. The feeling of Bruce’s teeth, tongue and warm breath on his sensitive flesh is driving Tony up the wall. Soon, the lack of stimulation on his throbbing cock is all he can think of. He wants to free himself from his pants so badly and let Bruce finish him. Why did he have to wear such tight clothing tonight?

Finally, when Tony is breathing hard and squirming nonstop, his hands twitching in an effort not to wrap his arms around Bruce’s back, Bruce pulls away and looks at him, taking in his pained expression and flushed face and throat.

“You’re doing well, keeping your hands up. I know it’s hard.”

Tony nods. “Yeah, it is,” he pants. “I just…wanna touch you.”

“I know. But not this time, love.”

Tony’s breath is stolen by that casual term of endearment, making him dizzy at just how _right_ it sounds. It takes all his willpower not to reach up and put his hands on that face, Bruce’s face, which is looking at him with such desire. How Bruce is managing to stay so calm and collected while effortlessly driving Tony wild is a mystery.

“If you want to touch something,” Bruce continues, “you can touch yourself, if you want. Just one hand. Leave the other one where it is. And if you want to come, you can. But I’m going to stay right here and watch you.”

Holy shit. Tony is expected to lie here directly under Bruce, pleasuring himself with one hand while Bruce watches at point blank range, his face barely a foot from Tony’s. A fresh shiver of arousal runs through him as he moves a hand down between himself and Bruce.

He falters when he reaches his belt buckle. He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to go about this one-handed. Opening his belt and unbuttoning his fly will require two hands, and Bruce hasn’t made a move to help him in that regard.

But before he can start fumbling with his buckle and fly, Bruce reaches down to take Tony’s hand, and repositions it so it’s resting on the front of his pants, against his straining cock.

At once, Tony understands the implication. His eyes widen and he stares at Bruce, who’s looking back at him with eyes blown wide with lust.

Any hesitation Tony might’ve felt evaporates at that look, and he begins to rub himself outside his pants like a horny teenager trying to get off discreetly. Only there’s nothing discreet at all about lying here in Bruce’s full view, legs spread, bringing himself to climax as Bruce watches his face, close enough to hear every whimper slipping out of Tony’s mouth.

Tony is already getting close. He closes his eyes to let himself get carried away toward release.

“Eyes open.”

His eyes snap open at the brusque order. He swallows, feeling very raw and open, watching Bruce watch him. He can’t hold his intense gaze for long and soon looks at Bruce’s mouth instead. How did he never notice how sexy Bruce’s lips were before?

Bruce cups Tony’s cheek with a hand and strokes his thumb over Tony’s jaw and chin, ghosting along his parted lips. Tony opens his mouth to let Bruce slip his thumb inside. He automatically starts sucking and revels in the change it produces in Bruce’s expression, Bruce’s eyes fixed on Tony’s mouth, clearly working to keep a lid on his own desire threatening to burst out of him. Tony relishes that look, even more so knowing he’s the cause of it.

“That’s good,” Bruce praises at the end of a long sigh.

Tony swirls his tongue around Bruce’s thumb, sucking, taking it deeper, seeing how much pleasure he can give Bruce with this small touch as he continues to pleasure himself at the same time.

Watching Bruce’s arousal grow is making Tony’s grow exponentially in turn. He’s close now, so close, feeling overwhelmed with these new sensations, with the way keeping his eyes open and his tongue busy is forcing him to stay in the moment, to not drift away into his own mind.

Now the sound of Bruce’s words washes over him:

“God, you’re perfect, Tony. Just perfect.” His voice is low and husky with arousal. “No matter what else we do in the future, we’re definitely doing this again. Only next time, both your hands will be up. Your cock will be out of those pants. And it’ll be my hand there making you come as fast…or as slow…as I want.”

The image of Bruce’s words bursts into focus in Tony’s mind, and a few strokes later he squeezes his eyes shut and climaxes hard, a groan escaping his throat and his lips clamping hard around Bruce’s thumb.

When the last spasms subside, Bruce climbs off of Tony and kneels in front of the couch, facing him. He places one hand on Tony’s shoulder and another on his head, stroking his hair and whispering to him as Tony works to calm his breathing.

“You were incredible, Tony. You were so good. You’re okay, just relax, catch your breath.”

Tony lies there, mind whirling at what just happened, at the way Bruce so effortlessly sparked such an overwhelming reaction in him just by saying a few words, and barely even touching him save for some kisses. But somehow he did, and it made Tony’s blood surge through him hotter and fiercer than anything he’s felt since, well, maybe ever. And Tony is no blushing virgin; he's dazzled everyone from supermodels to olympians in the bedroom—even spent one memorable night with a certain member of the British royal family—but none came close to making him feel like  _this._

After a moment, he opens his eyes, slightly apprehensive about looking Bruce in the eye after that. But when he does, and sees nothing but kind concern in Bruce’s face, he smiles with relief.

“Christ, Banner.” His voice is rough with the intense emotions still coursing through him. “You can sure show a guy a good time. That was…” he huffs a laugh and runs a hand over his face. “Wow.”

Bruce returns the smile. “Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Tony sits up, and feels the cold stickiness in his pants. He remembers the fresh clothes he brought, which are sitting on the floor beside the couch. He reaches for them. “I should…”

“Actually…would you let me?” asks Bruce.

Tony pauses, unsure of exactly what Bruce means. But he nods anyway. He doesn’t want to leave, even for a moment; he’s worried everything will be different when he gets back.

Bruce is still crouching in front of him. Gently, almost reverently, he opens Tony’s belt and fly, and Tony lifts his hips to let Bruce slide his pants and underwear partway down his thighs. He reaches for a cloth that he placed on the end table earlier, and makes quick work of wiping Tony’s spend off his groin. He then hands Tony his sweatpants and, with a reassuring smile and a quick squeeze of Tony’s knee, stands up and turns his back to refill their wine glasses, giving Tony a moment to get changed privately.

Tony sits back down, and Bruce sits close beside him and hands him his wine glass. He tucks his feet under himself so he can turn to face Tony fully, and places a comforting hand on his leg.

“So. Feeling okay?”

Tony nods, letting a long puff of air escape his cheeks. “Yeah. Better than okay.” He’s still feeling dazed at the contrast between this and what he’d gotten used to in his relationship with Gene. This, his surrender to Bruce, was so easy, and not forced at all. What’s more, he doesn’t feel any of the shame or embarrassment he would’ve had it been Gene who’d just watched him come in his pants. He doesn’t feel used for Bruce’s pleasure. He _wanted_ to do this, wanted to please Bruce.

He wants to express all of these thoughts to Bruce.

“You’re…good,” is all he can think to say. His mind is still blank.

Bruce chuckles. “So were you. I’m glad you liked it. I did, too. But let me ask you: was there any part you didn’t like, or don’t want to do again? Anything at all.”

Tony takes a sip of wine and thinks about the raw vulnerability he felt when he first tilted his head back to let Bruce kiss his neck, about the jolt of arousal that seared through him when he understood how Bruce intended for him to come, and about the sensation of Bruce’s thumb lightly brushing Tony’s lips, encouraging him to open his mouth and suck, which caused Bruce so much pleasure. Finally, he remembers Bruce calling him _love_ and his heart skips a beat.

“No. It was…it was all good.”

“You didn’t find the position too…restricting?” Bruce presses.

“No,” Tony immediately replies. “Actually, I appreciated how you—handled that.”

He’s a little taken aback at Bruce’s frank questions about this; he’s not used to just _talking_ about it like this. But their conversation is comforting in a way he can’t explain.

“Good, I’m glad,” says Bruce. “I want this to be fun. So, unless you tell me otherwise, I won’t ever put you in a situation that you can’t easily get out of anytime you want.” His lips quirk into a faint smile before adding, “What I’m aiming for is to put you in situations where getting out is the last thing you want to do.”

Tony’s spent cock gives an impossibly early twitch at Bruce’s words. He forces his expression to remain neutral.

“So,” continues Bruce, “you think you’ll want to do this ag—”

“Yes. Absolutely. Sign me up.” Tony doesn’t care how eager he sounds. Bruce has him in the palm of his hand, and there’s nowhere else he wants to be. He knows this is the beginning of something good. His only regret is that he didn’t make a move on Bruce sooner.

His enthusiastic reply elicits a genuine laugh from Bruce, who cups Tony’s cheek with one hand and leans in for a tender kiss on his mouth.

Suddenly Tony remembers that he’s allowed to touch Bruce again. He wraps his free hand around the other man's back and leans in to return the kiss with zeal.

When they finally break apart, Bruce sets down his wine. “It’s still early. Do you want to finish the movie from yesterday?”

Tony nods. Yes, yes he does. Anything to be able to stay here with Bruce for as long as possible.

Bruce flips on the TV and has Jarvis start the movie where it left off. He nudges Tony’s back to get him to lean forward. At first Tony is unsure what he’s doing, but then Bruce stretches out to lie on his side behind him. Tony takes the hint and lies down in front of Bruce, not bothering to suppress his contented sigh at the feeling of the arm snugly wrapping around him and the warmth of Bruce’s breath tickling his hair.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The “Prévost Reaction” in organic chemistry is the process of converting alkenes to anti-diols. The surname Prévost comes from a Latin word meaning “to be in charge,” so it kind of fits this chapter :)


	3. Static Method

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce takes things a little further for Tony with some sensation play. Tony’s trust in Bruce grows, and he confides something painful to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heed the tags when it comes to this chapter, specifically the implied past non-con (though there’s nothing explicit).

Tony has an SI commitment the following night and Bruce has a dinner date to catch up with his old particle physics professor the night after that, but they manage to make time to get together in Tony’s penthouse for a quick lunch on the third day.

“It’s not homemade,” Tony admits as he pulls two containers of dhal and basmati rice from a takeout bag.

“That’s okay, this is actually one of my favorite restaurants.”

“I know,” says Tony with a poorly-concealed grin.

“You—” Bruce chuckles and shakes his head. “Of course you did.”

“So,” says Tony as he sits down. “I swore to Pepper I’d go over some paperwork with her this afternoon. And once she has me in her office she’ll probably keep me there the rest of the day playing red tape catch-up. But I’m free later tonight if you…” He doesn’t want to come right out and say it. _If you want to fuck me._

Bruce smiles. “I would love if you’d come over. Eight thirty?”

Tony returns the smile. “It’s a date.”

Their conversation turns to other topics as they enjoy their short lunch. When they’re nearly done eating, Bruce steers the conversation back to their date.

“Would it be stepping over the line,” he says carefully, “if I asked you to dress a specific way tonight? I won’t presume to dictate your clothes every time. Just this once.”

“Depends what you were thinking,” Tony replies, pretending to look suspicious. “Keeping in mind that my French maid uniform is at the cleaners,” he adds with a smirk.

“Aw, damn,” Bruce says with mock disappointment, and they both break into laughter.

Tony loves this. That they can joke about this topic. Bruce doesn’t expect him to be subservient all the time, the way— no. He won’t think about Gene right now and ruin a perfectly good lunch date.

“Go ahead,” he invites Bruce to elaborate.

“You can say no,” begins Bruce. “But, well…”

* * *

 

An hour before their scheduled meeting time, Tony starts getting ready. Bruce asked him to come over dressed in formal wear, full suit and tie. “As if you were dressing for a gala,” he added. When Tony asked if they’d be going out, Bruce just said “No,” and his body language didn’t invite further questions. Tony was mystified, but readily agreed.

He takes a hot shower and resists the urge to jerk off at the thought of whatever Bruce is going to do to him. His arousal only increases as he carefully styles his hair and trims his facial hair. He leans his hands on the bathroom vanity and looks himself in the mirror, wondering how Bruce is able to make him feel this way. This _good._

He finds himself going the extra mile in all his grooming preparation to impress Bruce. The same Bruce he’s known for nearly a year now, and who suddenly has Tony wrapped around his finger, eager for praise and willing to submit to his whims. Tony never would have expected something like this from mild-mannered Dr. Banner.

Three minutes after their scheduled time—Tony doesn’t want to look too eager—he arrives in his most flattering dark slate suit with a trinity-knotted tie, sporting white gold Avengers “A” cufflinks and tinted glasses, his goatee impeccably trimmed and hair just the right degree of disheveled.

Bruce is leaning against the wall across from the elevator when it opens, dressed quite a bit more casually than Tony: jeans and a button-down with the top two buttons undone. His glasses are perched on his head, but he lowers them to his eyes as he takes in the sight of Tony dressed to the nines. His eyes widen slightly and his lips part. A thrill of arousal runs through Tony at the effect his appearance has on Bruce. He gives him his most seductive smile.

“This okay?” he asks, gesturing at his clothes, fully knowing the answer.

In response, Bruce takes hold of the front of Tony’s jacket, backs him up until he’s leaning against the wall, and envelops him in a passionate kiss, his body pressed fully against Tony’s. Tony can feel Bruce’s hard-on and it makes his own half-hard cock respond in kind.

Bruce pulls away abruptly. “We better get started, or I might be tempted to finish you right here,” he breathes. He looks Tony up and down one more time and adds, “You’re gorgeous in anything you wear, but you are such a temptation like this. And I can finally tell you that.”

He takes Tony’s hand and leads him to the bedroom, which is well lit by two bedside lamps. He stops Tony in the middle of the room while he himself proceeds to the bed and sits down, reclined a bit against the headboard, hands folded on his stomach and ankles crossed casually, giving Tony an appraising look. The intensity of that look suggests he’s contemplating how best to take Tony apart tonight. The very idea makes Tony’s breath catch in his throat.

Finally, Bruce remembers himself. He schools his expression to a calm indifference and waves a hand toward Tony’s clothes. “Off. All of it. Now.”

Tony frowns, confused. “Already? You got me all gussied up just to watch me take everything off five seconds in? What for?”

Bruce quirks an eyebrow, the minute motion enough to make Tony feel reprimanded. He opens his mouth, unsure whether to apologize for speaking out of turn, but Bruce’s expression softens.

“The answer is right there in your question,” he says with a faint smile, and motions for Tony to get started.

“Oh!” Tony says with a thrill. He returns Bruce’s smile with an award-winning one of his own and reaches up to loosen his tie. “Do you want a striptease, or…”

“You’re still talking.” Bruce’s expression is stern now, and his voice has taken on that soft yet commanding timbre that sends a spark of electricity up Tony’s spine. “Don’t be fancy about it. Just strip, now.”

Tony doesn’t need to be told again. He undoes his tie while toeing off his leather wingtips, marveling at the way Bruce can effortlessly slip into this dominant role, instantly changing the mood of the whole room with a few soft words and a look.

Shrugging out of his jacket is easy enough, but Tony starts to feel a little self-conscious as he unbuttons his shirt. He’s disrobed for partners hundreds of times, but usually it was in the midst of a passionate tryst while his lover’s clothes came off at the same time; never has he calmly stripped in front of anyone, especially someone who simply sat there watching, fully-clothed themselves. But he powers through, dropping his shirt on the floor and starting on his belt buckle. Bruce wants to watch him undress, and the rush of arousal he feels at indulging Bruce’s wishes is enough to overpower any inhibitions he might have.

When his silk boxers slide off, revealing that he’s already half hard, Bruce stands up and approaches him, looking him right in the eyes. The steadiness of his gaze is enough to make Tony look away, toward his feet. Bruce’s fingers catch him under the chin and tilt his face back up. Tony swallows as he meets Bruce’s eyes, but that half-smile has returned to Bruce’s lips, and it’s reassuring.

Bruce reaches up and slips off Tony’s glasses, then moves to step behind him. Tony turns his head to follow his motion, but Bruce utters a brusque “Eyes forward.” Tony snaps his gaze forward and Bruce disappears from his peripheral vision.

He stands still and quiet as Bruce’s hand first touches his neck, then trails down his back to his ass and squeezes. But he can’t suppress a slight gasp when Bruce’s other hand reaches around to his chest to lightly pinch his nipple. Not enough to hurt, but just enough to make his eyes fall shut and send a little jolt of pleasure to his hardening cock.

“Are you going to be as good for me as you were last time?”

“Yes,” Tony breathes.

“You’re going to obey every one of my orders?”

“Yes.” The word is barely a whisper.

“Good.” Bruce moves forward so he’s pressed against Tony’s back, and he very softly kisses the back of Tony’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine. “But tonight, I only have one order for you. All I want you to do,” and the fingertips of both his hands are now trailing down Tony’s chest toward his fully-hard cock, “is not move.” His fingers, feather-light on Tony’s lower abdomen, stop just before they reach his erection, and every muscle in Tony’s body is tensed up in an effort to keep perfectly still.

Bruce steps back from Tony. “Lie on the bed. Face down with a pillow under your hips.” He squeezes Tony’s ass again and nudges him in the direction of the bed.

Tony does as he’s told, lying down on the bed and adjusting the pillow beneath him to raise his ass in the air. He rests his head on his folded arms and looks up at Bruce, who hasn’t moved.

Bruce just watches Tony for a moment as he lies there, obediently laid bare just for him. Tony struggles not to squirm under Bruce’s intense scrutiny. God, if he’s already having trouble staying still just from Bruce watching him, how can he hope to stay still when Bruce gets his hands on him?

He’s about to find out. Bruce sits beside him and places a hand on his lower back, moving it in smooth circles. Tony tenses, but doesn’t move.

Bruce gives a hum of approval and nudges the insides of Tony’s thighs. “Spread your legs a bit more. Just like that. Perfect. Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You’re going to stay just like that until I say.”

He stands up and moves around the bed to Tony’s other side, out of his line of sight. Tony’s body tenses up in anticipation. He’s lying here, naked and willingly spread out for Bruce, able to move at any time if he wants to, but Bruce’s words have him rooted in place, determined to give only his absolute obedience.

His resolve is tested when Bruce runs a light finger up the length of his leg, starting from his ankle. Tony holds his breath as Bruce’s finger nears his balls, but it stops just short of touching them. He repeats the motion a second time, prompting another sharp intake of breath from Tony.

By the third time, Tony relaxes slightly, starting to get used to the prickling, tingling sensation Bruce’s fingers are creating up and down his leg. But this time, Bruce’s finger keeps going up until it ghosts across the back of Tony’s balls. He expels his breath and only just keeps from flinching.

”Just keeping you on your toes,” Bruce says with a smile. “Feeling okay so far?”

”Yes,” Tony breathes.

Now Bruce moves on to Tony’s spine, running a finger lightly up and down it and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, and Tony has to grit his teeth to keep from whimpering.

“Don’t hold back, Tony,” Bruce orders. “I want to hear the sounds you’re making. Show me the effect my hands are having on you.”

As he speaks, he moves his fingers lower to trace idle circles on Tony’s hips and ass, and Tony couldn’t bite back his moan if he tried. His whole body is now trembling with the effort to stay in place and let Bruce touch him wherever he will.

And Bruce does. He runs his hands and fingers on nearly every part of Tony’s body he can reach, sometimes varying the pressure, sometimes using his fingernails to make Tony’s skin shiver. Occasionally he checks in to see how Tony’s feeling. Soon, every nerve in Tony’s body is tingling under Bruce’s touch. Any inhibitions he might have felt at letting Bruce hear him moan and whimper have long since disappeared. He’s panting and gasping, eyes squeezed shut, every inch of his body over-sensitive to the light touch of Bruce’s fingers. He’s got to hand it to Bruce for being creative enough to come up with an idea for a scene this intense without hurting Tony or tying him up.

“You know,” drawls Bruce as his fingers continue to roam over Tony’s body, searching for his most sensitive spots, “This is usually done with ice and candle wax. And if this is how you respond to just hands, I can’t wait to see you try to stay still while I’m running an ice cube up the inside of your thigh.” His fingers slide up the inside of Tony’s legs as he says the words, and Tony could almost swear it feels cold. “Or letting hot wax drop onto this perfect ass.” His hands grab Tony’s ass cheeks and squeeze.

Now he moves to kneel between Tony’s spread legs. Tony takes a deep breath and steels himself for whatever Bruce is about to do. But _nothing_ could have prepared him for what happens next.

Bruce’s hands are still squeezing Tony’s ass cheeks, spreading them a little. He leans forward, and before Tony can even begin to process what’s about to happen, Bruce’s warm tongue swipes upward over Tony’s opening, making him yelp and his vision blank out.

A few more licks and his mind blanks out too. His breathing is fast and ragged, and every swipe of Bruce’s tongue has him grunting in an effort to stay still. His cock is straining under him, and he’s sure that he’ll come just like this if Bruce keeps going much longer. The only thought running through his head is _Oh God, Oh God._

Bruce suddenly stops his ministrations and only then does Tony realize he was speaking the words aloud.

Bruce sits up and tells Tony to turn onto his back, pushing the pillow aside as he does so. He straddles Tony and leans down so their bodies are nearly pressed together, and kisses him deeply. When he breaks away and rests on his elbows above Tony’s face, Tony gazes up at him, transfixed by the lust in his eyes.

“So good for me, Tony. You are so good.” He leans in for another kiss. “Do you want more?”

“God, yes,” Tony answers, though he’s unsure what Bruce is going to do next. Maybe he’s about to bend Tony’s legs up and take him just like this. Tony would not say no to that. He’s been aching to come since the second he lay on this bed for Bruce, even though Bruce hasn’t touched his cock even once yet.

Instead, Bruce climbs off Tony and nudges his shoulder. “Sit up.”

Tony’s muscles are tired from their prolonged exertion, so sitting up is a challenge. Once he manages it, Bruce scoots behind him, then guides him backward to lean against Bruce’s chest. At first, Bruce just wraps his arms around Tony’s chest in an affectionate hug, but then he presses his lips to Tony’s ear and murmurs, “Put your hands flat on the bed and keep them there.” Despite the low volume, the authority is back in his voice. “Tonight, your orgasm is mine to take.”

Tony, who has just started to catch his breath after their intense play, now feels his heart rate speeding up again. He wordlessly obeys Bruce, placing his palms onto the mattress on each side of him.

Bruce has a hand in Tony’s hair, threading lightly across his scalp, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. As soon as Tony’s hands are in place, Bruce grips a handful of hair in his fist.

“Tell me if this is too much.” Bruce’s arm moves, and Tony hisses with pleasure and his eyes fall closed as his head is tipped back toward Bruce’s shoulder. It’s not painful, not exactly, but it’s intense and makes his breathing heavier.

“Talk to me, Tony. Is it too much?”

“No, no, it’s good,” Tony breathes.

Bruce kisses and gently sucks the side of Tony’s neck, from shoulder up to earlobe, which he nibbles just enough to elicit a moan from Tony’s lips. When the nibble turns to licks, Tony squirms and shivers, his breath ragged. Although Bruce hasn’t ordered him still this time, Tony tries his best not to move, but to let Bruce do exactly as he pleases.

He flinches slightly when a thin stream of lube is drizzled onto his cock. He hears the click of the lube bottle snapping shut and then Bruce’s free hand finally closes around him, provoking a groan from deep in his throat. Tony presses his palms deeper into the mattress in an effort to keep them in place and not disobey Bruce. Bruce is going to make him come today and Tony is going to let him.

Bruce skips the preamble and starts stroking him with purpose, in long caresses from his base to his tip and back again. Tony is not going to last long at this rate. Bruce has not released his hold on Tony’s hair, and while it’s not painful, the tension is just enough to ground him in the moment and make him feel _owned_ by Bruce. He lets himself become submerged in the feeling of it.

Bruce’s voice, close to Tony’s ear, now adds to the symphony of sensations he’s experiencing.

“When I had you spread earlier, you know what I saw?” His voice is conversational in tone, at odds with the dirty words tumbling easily from his mouth. “I saw a very tight hole just aching to be filled. The perfect place to bury my cock as deep as it’ll go and fuck you for as long as you can stand it. Can you feel it?” He grinds a little against Tony’s lower back so Tony can feel the press of his very hard cock. Tony’s answer is little more than a whimper. A slow build has begun at his extremities, his fingers, toes and scalp, and is steadily creeping inward to his core. “Good. Get used to it, because you’re going to be feeling it a lot. From now on, that gorgeous ass of yours is all _mine_.”

The tension that's been building deep in his core abruptly reaches its peak and Tony comes with a shuddering moan, his arms shaking in place and neck straining against Bruce’s firm hand in his hair.

Bruce strokes him through his climax until the last drops of come spurt onto Tony’s stomach and the aftershocks cease.

Tony collapses backward and lets his head drop back to rest on Bruce’s shoulder. His chest is flushed and his body is glistening with sweat.

Bruce wraps his arms around Tony’s chest again, holding him close.

“God, Tony. You’re irresistible.”

Tony’s skin tingles at the praise.

“You’re pretty fucking riveting yourself,” he pants, provoking a chuckle from Bruce. They lie there motionless for a moment, each catching their breath, until Bruce reaches over to the end table for some tissues to wipe Tony off with. He takes his time to do a thorough job, and Tony basks in this special attention that Bruce has taken to providing.

When he finishes, he kisses Tony’s neck and asks, “Are you thirsty? I have a water bottle here.”

“I’m good. Maybe later.”

Bruce seems to sense that there’s something Tony isn’t saying. “This was pretty intense. Are you feeling alright about it? Anything you want to discuss, you can tell me now, or later.”

“No, no, it was all good. Very good. Only…”

“Only what?”

“You didn’t get to finish.”

“I will, another time. Don’t think I didn’t enjoy it.”

A thought occurs to Tony. “ _Can_ you finish? Safely, I mean. Are you ever worried about a…surprise appearance?”

“No. Not as long as I’m in control of things.”

Tony is confused. He decides to take a leaf from Bruce’s book and just be frank and ask, although the question comes out sounding a lot meeker than he intended, little more than a whisper. “Then will you fuck me next time?”

“Is that what you want?”

Tony turns his head to try to see Bruce’s face. “Of course. You think I wouldn’t?”

Bruce doesn’t respond immediately. He starts to shift out from behind Tony, so Tony moves to let him. He lies down on his back and pulls Tony toward him. Their legs intertwine and Tony wraps an arm around Bruce’s chest.

“It’s not that. I just don’t want to screw this up by going faster than you’re comfortable with. I have a feeling that you don’t know all of your limits, since you didn’t always have a chance to properly test them. And a corollary of that is that you may not know exactly what you _like_ , either. So I’m just taking it slow, getting to know what works for you and what doesn’t, and also trying some things that you may not have had a chance to do before. That’s all. There’s no need to rush; we have all the time in the world.”

“Oh,” says Tony, relieved. “That makes sense. Probably a good call.” And it does make sense. He still winces to think about how he overreacted when Bruce pinned his hands. Knowing Bruce, he’s probably still beating himself up about it.

“But since you asked so sweetly,” Bruce adds, voice lighter, “Yes, I will fuck you next time.”

Tony looks up at him and they share a huff of laughter. God, this is nice. He hasn’t felt this relaxed and secure in someone’s arms since…ever. He doesn’t want to move from this spot.

Bruce must be thinking the same thing, because he stretches out his free hand to reach the blanket so he can pull it over them both. They settle in and just lie together in comfortable silence. After a while, Tony decides to tell Bruce something to help put his mind at ease.

“When I finally left Gene,” he murmurs into Bruce’s shoulder, “it was because he wanted to punish me, again, for some imagined transgression. Only this time, he was gonna invite two of his friends over so the three of them could— _punish_ me together. When he told me what he was planning, I finally drew the line and kicked him out.”

Bruce tightens his hold around Tony’s shoulders, but says nothing.

“I’m telling you this because I want you to know how sure I am about us. This, all of this…I like where it’s going. And I want to keep going. You’re probably right; slow is good. I’m still having a hard time parsing just how completely fucking different this is. Everything about this has already diverged so unbelievably far from where it ended up last time, I can hardly believe it’s the same equation.”

Bruce smiles. “Quantum fidelity decay,” he says, cryptically.

Tony frowns. “Come again? Quantum mechanics was never my specialty.”

“It’s something my old physics prof was telling me about at dinner last night. It’s one of her areas of research. It’s just a term that measures the extent to which the state of a quantum system can be significantly altered when you apply differential variations to its dynamics for a given set of initial conditions.”

“Huh,” says Tony, intrigued. “So, basically, it describes how a small change can cause a wildly different result.”

“Basically.”

Leave it to Bruce to sum up any situation with one concise scientific term.

“Quantum fidelity decay, huh? You’re so sexy when you talk nerdy, Dr. Banner.”

Bruce lets out a genuine, hearty laugh at that, something Tony realizes he doesn’t hear nearly often enough. He’ll have to do something about that.

They’re silent again for a while, and eventually Bruce’s hand finds its way to Tony’s head and starts stroking his hair. He doesn’t know why, but something about this small, thoughtful action compels him to open up to Bruce completely, and confess the real story about leaving Gene. He’s wished for the more favorable version for so long that sometimes he almost forgets that that’s not what really happened.

“Bruce?”

“Mm?”

He closes his eyes and swallows hard. “When I left him…” he lets out a long breath. No other soul knows this, not even Pepper. “It wasn’t before the—the ‘night’ he was planning. I left him the day after.” He can’t help the shame that tinges his voice at the thought of what he allowed himself to do and have done to him before finally putting a stop to it.

To his relief, Bruce doesn’t react at all; doesn’t freeze, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even break the rhythm of his hand stroking Tony’s hair.

When he finally speaks, his voice is calm and soothing. “It doesn’t matter, Tony. Whatever he made you do, or you let him do, or he made you let him do…it doesn’t change anything for us, or how I feel about you. It only makes me more grateful to you for trusting me like this. So, thank you for telling me the truth.”

Tony feels his eyes burning. He thinks his heart is going to burst with affection for this man.

“Do you want to spend the night?” asks Bruce.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” Tony replies, not even caring if he sounds over-eager. “But I do kind of need a shower.” He showered barely two hours ago, but their activities have left him pretty sweaty.

“That can be arranged. Want some company? I could use a shower too.”

“Sure,” murmurs Tony, but he squeezes Bruce tighter. “In a bit.” He still doesn’t want to get up.

“Okay, in a bit.”

They’re asleep less than ten minutes later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In computer science, a “static method” is a special type of function in object-oriented programming. And bonus, I finally explained my weird-ass choice for the title of this fic.
> 
> I couldn’t help projecting a bit in this chapter. I love Tony in anything he wears, but especially when he’s decked out in formal wear with all the trimmings. It would just be so much fun to get my hands on him and strip off all those layers…but I digress. Next chapter is coming soon :)
> 
> P.S. For those who wish they could’ve seen Tony in that French maid uniform: http://peppernetwork.tumblr.com/post/164870076981/ylixia-thingsfortwwings-comic-panel-pepper/embed


	4. Couple Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follows immediately after the previous chapter. Just an interim chapter with lots of talking, fluff and feels. Tony and Bruce wake up in the middle of the night, have that shower, and chat for a bit in the kitchen. Bruce takes care of a stressed-out Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for hand-feeding in this chapter in case that’s not your thing.
> 
> Credit goes to the lovely [Trammel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trammel/pseuds/Trammel) for beta reading this chapter. Thank you!

Tony awakes with a gasp around midnight and only just manages to avoid crying out. It’s dark. Gene is there, he was _just there_ , not five seconds ago, and he was in one of his ‘moods’ and had his hand on Tony’s throat, he was speaking, _threatening_ , and he was about to, to, oh god.

He jerks his head to his left in a barely-concealed panic and sees a sleeping figure beside him, and he’s about to jump out of the bed, because he didn’t ask permission to get into bed, he can’t remember asking for permission to lie down here.

But the person sleeping peacefully next to him is Bruce.

_Bruce?_

And just like that, the veil of the nightmare is lifted and all of Tony’s memories of this evening and the past week suddenly flood back into his mind.

He sinks back down into the pillow, shaking. It was a nightmare? But it was so real. Jesus Christ it was _so fucking_ _real._

Tears spring unbidden to his eyes. “Fuck,” he whispers, bringing a hand up to press his eyelids in a futile attempt to stop them. He hasn’t dreamed about this bullshit in years. And now suddenly his ex’s cruel words are ringing in his ears and his neck itches from the phantom hand he could almost _swear_ was touching him not twenty seconds ago.

 _Stop it,_ he chides himself. It was a stupid dream. Bruce is there, not Gene, and Bruce will never hurt Tony or say those things. He’s safe with Bruce, who has been nothing but careful, and gentle, and so fucking _loving_ toward Tony since they got together. Was it only four days ago? And shit, was it only four _hours_ ago that Tony told Bruce… _that…_ and Bruce just accepted it without hesitation, saying it changes nothing for them?

He takes a long, shuddering breath to try and calm himself. But now, on top of the nightmare, he can’t stop thinking about the contrast with Bruce, how patient and caring he’s been, and how he hasn’t even taken any pleasure for himself yet because he’s so focused on Tony. Why does he think Tony deserves all this?

These thoughts just open the floodgates wider. A tear falls loose and runs toward his temple, and he sniffs as quietly as possible.

“Oh, Tony.”

Tony gasps; he didn’t hear Bruce wake up. He lowers his hand and tries to blink away the tears so he can reassure Bruce. The guilt in the man’s voice was unmistakable.

“It wasn’t you, it wasn’t…this,” he whispers. The last thing he wants is for Bruce to think he’s having regrets or is feeling ashamed of anything they’ve done.

“Can I touch you?” Bruce holds out a tentative hand toward Tony, his face full of concern, and the goddamn thoughtfulness and respect in that gesture, of asking Tony _permission_ to touch him, is just too much. He squeezes his eyes shut and nods as a silent sob ripples through him.

“C’mere, love,” is all Bruce says as he pulls Tony to his chest. He just holds him, he doesn’t hush him or insist that he explain what’s wrong. Tony doesn’t know how he would even explain it anyway. This feeling of offering himself to Bruce, trusting him in a way he hasn’t trusted anyone in two decades, and for Bruce to just accept him, is too overwhelming to articulate. He barely grasped the significance himself until this nightmare brought it into painfully sharp focus.

It takes Tony a couple minutes, but he pulls himself together. He looks up at Bruce’s worried face and kisses him.

“I’m okay. Just a nightmare.” Then in a feeble attempt at a joke, he adds, “You’ll have to get used to those if you’re gonna date me.”

Bruce doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push. He just asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tony nods. With Bruce looking at him like that, with so much love in his face, how could Tony be anything but okay?

Though it’s after midnight, they decide to get up and take that shower. Tony, already naked, turns the water on and then leans against the wall to watch unabashedly as Bruce disrobes, because hey, Bruce got to have his fun watching Tony earlier.

Bruce smiles when he notices, but doesn’t look self-conscious in the slightest as he slides off his pants and underwear. Tony makes a mental note to try to follow Bruce’s example the next time he orders Tony to strip.

When they step into the oversized shower, Bruce sits Tony down on the bench below the rain showerhead and tells him to relax. Tony tips his head back and closes his eyes, willing the images of his shitty nightmare to get out of his head. He can tell it’s probably going to be one of those dreams that will be hard to shake for a few days.

Bruce lathers a cloth with soap and kneels in front of Tony, starting with Tony’s feet and working his way up, slowly washing away all of the stress from his nightmare. Just watching Bruce at work is enough to make his eyes prick again, but he blinks a few times and leans against the wall to let himself relax and enjoy this attention from Bruce.

When Bruce is about halfway done, Tony feels much calmer, and explains to him what happened. “I haven’t had a dream about that in years. It must have been from talking to you about it tonight. Sorry if I scared you.”

Bruce has stopped his ministrations and is looking up at Tony. “There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s understandable that some of this would be dredged up now. I’m just…well, I’m glad it’s not making you want to stop.”

“Fuck, no,” Tony assures him. “Why would I stop when I finally have something good going on? Sorry Brucie, you’re stuck with me.”

Now Bruce looks like the one feeling pin pricks behind his eyes. He blinks a few times and smiles warmly, then gets up to sit beside Tony on the bench, picking up the washcloth again to work on Tony’s chest.

“Oh.” He pauses, looking at Tony’s arc reactor. “Do you want to do this part? I don’t wanna make you uncomf—”

“Bruce,” Tony cuts him off, barely suppressing an eyeroll. If there’s one person on earth who couldn’t make Tony feel uncomfortable if he tried, it’s the man sitting beside him. He takes Bruce’s hand that’s holding the washcloth and slaps it onto his chest with a cheeky smile.

Bruce blinks a few more times before starting.

When they’re drying off afterward, Bruce asks Tony if he’s hungry. “I put together a plate of fruit before you came over. It was supposed to be for after, but we fell asleep.”

“Yeah. That sounds good.” It’s pushing one a.m. and Tony is wide awake and a little hungry, having not eaten since his small dinner hours ago. He’s also not eager to go right back to sleep yet; despite how relaxing the shower was, he’s not convinced his dreams will be entirely peaceful.

Bruce loans him a spare bathrobe to wear while he himself puts on some flannel pajamas. They make their way to the open living area, where Bruce heads to the fridge.

“You can have a seat, I’ll be right there.”

Tony sits down at the dining table and turns his chair away from the table to face the floor-to-ceiling window that has a view of the city. After a minute, Bruce comes over and sets a plate on the table behind Tony, along with a water pitcher and two glasses.

They sit in comfortable silence in the dimly-lit room for a few minutes, admiring the city lights, occasionally taking a piece of fruit or sip of water.

“So,” Tony eventually remarks, giving Bruce a knowing smile. “I never knew you had a weakness for men in suits.”

Bruce’s reaction is adorable. He blushes slightly and hides a smile behind the back of his hand.

“Yeah, that was a little self-indulgent on my part, wasn’t it?” he admits sheepishly. "Though to be clear, it’s not any man in a suit,” he adds. “Just you.”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to be slightly embarrassed. He hides it easily, though, by sitting up straighter and saying, “Well, I feel special now. Makes the effort worthwhile.”

“Well don’t worry, I won’t ask you to do that again for a while.” Bruce looks him up and down before adding, “Though I can’t promise I won’t just take you on the floor of your workshop next time I go down there at the end of the day and see you all…” he waves a hand toward Tony, “sweaty, disheveled and covered in grease.”

“Noted,” Tony replies with a grin. “I’ll have Jarvis order some extra motor oil tomorrow.”

Bruce snorts, actually _snorts,_ a laugh. Fuck, he’s adorable. Tony pops an orange slice into his mouth and just gazes at the other man, unable to keep the fond smile off his face, but then not really trying to.

“On that topic, I want you to keep in mind,” Bruce continues a moment later, “I’m not the only one who gets to ask for things. If there’s anything you know you like, or want to try, go ahead and ask.”

“I will,” Tony assures him. Though he’s pretty sure Bruce was right earlier when he suggested that Tony probably doesn’t know exactly what he likes. So far all he knows is he likes the feeling Bruce stirs in him. He likes surrendering to Bruce, likes showing him that he can do what he says. He just wants more of that, to feel it more strongly. The fact that he trusts Bruce so much makes everything about this better than he thought possible. He’s very excited about where it’s going.

He doesn’t know how to express this to Bruce without seeming awkward, so he just says, “You’re doing a damn good job guessing, though. No complaints at all so far.”

Bruce smiles. “I’m glad to hear it. I think I’m getting a feel for what you’re looking for. You remind me a little of myself when I used to sub. But if you do think of something, don’t hesitate. It can be anything, big or small. I want to give you what you need.”

Tony nods, but he’s struck by what Bruce just said. “You used to…”

“Sub, yes,” replies Bruce. “Occasionally. It wasn’t typically my preference, but with the right partner, it could be pretty rewarding. As I said, I can’t do it anymore since…you know. But I don’t miss it all that much. I prefer being on the other side. I always have.”

Huh. Okay. Tony wouldn’t have expected Bruce to have any history of being submissive, especially after these past two evenings spent in the man’s company. But he supposes he shouldn’t be too surprised. And in fact, it’s comforting, knowing that Bruce has experience being in Tony’s place. It’s probably part of the reason why he seems to know so intuitively what Tony needs.

He decides to ask the question he's been wondering about since that first night. “How did you figure out sex after your accident? How did you learn to make it work?”

Bruce shrugs. “Surprisingly easily. It was basically just trial and error. In my first two relationships after, I was ‘in charge,’ so to speak, and had no issues. But then I tried to sub again, and it became apparent in the first five minutes that it wasn’t going to work; that just because I trusted my partner, didn’t mean the Other Guy did. So I tapped out with my safe word and that was that. I felt bad for my partner though; he really thought he did something wrong. And I couldn’t tell him the whole story, obviously. Anyway, after that I started seeing a woman. We kept it all vanilla, and to my surprise, even that wasn’t ‘acceptable.’ So I…”

Tony isn’t really listening to Bruce’s story anymore. His anecdote about tapping out with his safe word—and his partner respecting it, and even feeling _bad_ about it—has hit Tony unexpectedly hard. It’s reminded him that what he has with Bruce isn’t special, isn’t the exception in this kind of relationship. Tony hasn’t won any lotteries here; it’s _normal_ to have a partner who just respects you and would readily honor your safe word with no questions asked. Even only five minutes in. Oh, he knew this in theory. But Bruce is the only person he’s ever spoken about this with, so it’s the first time he’s heard a first-hand account of it. Fuck, he really did miss out before. Gene sure did a goddamn number on him, didn’t he?

Once again, images from his nightmare spring to his mind, along with a few more memories he hasn’t thought about in years. Trying to play it cool, he takes a sip of water too fast, and chokes on it. His coughing reminds him of not being able to breathe. He brings a hand up to his neck and rubs it a little too agitatedly.

“Are you alright, Tony?" Bruce dips his head down to catch Tony’s eye. “What are you thinking about?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Some dreams are just a bitch to shake off. Looks like this is one of them. It was,” and he lets out an involuntary sigh, “very real. Happens sometimes. No big deal.” He’s trying to reassure himself as much as Bruce, but he can’t hide his agitation. He lets out another long sigh and shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

“You mentioned you’re not a stranger to nightmares. Is there something you usually do that helps?”

Yes, there is something. When Tony’s mind is nagging him, be it with memories of Afghanistan or nightmares about the wormhole, he solves it by immersing himself in work down in his lab. Sometimes for hours on end. It helps to have one thing to focus on. But he sure as hell isn’t going to disappear down to his lab on his very first night spent with Bruce. He can probably just ride it out. When he and Bruce go back to bed, he can lie down and pretend to sleep, even if it means spending the rest of the night awake.

He shrugs. “Nothing particular, no.”

“Tony.” Bruce clearly doesn’t believe him. He must have paused too long before answering.

Tony is so used to covering up his pain that it feels foreign to be honest about it. But this is Bruce; he knows a thing or two about pain. And Tony doesn’t want to start this relationship on the wrong foot, with a lie. “I go to the lab and work until I’m not distracted anymore. Sometimes for hours. But I’m not gonna do that tonight. That wouldn’t be fair to you. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Bruce looks pensive. “Well…” He pauses, seeming to carefully consider his next words. “I certainly won’t stop you from going to your lab if you want. Especially if it helps. But maybe there’s a way I can help take your mind off it.” He sits up straighter. “Would you let me try?”

Tony isn’t sure what Bruce means, but he’s curious to find out. He nods.

Bruce puts his glass down and shifts to face Tony. Shy, adorable Bruce is gone, and Tony finds himself looking at the confident, self-possessed man from whom a few words or a simple look can effortlessly turn Tony to putty, eager to please and to obey. He freezes, looking into Bruce’s eyes, ready to hear what Bruce wants from him.

“Eyes closed, hands behind your back.” It’s not a request.

Tony does both unquestioningly, making Bruce hum in approval. “Very nice,” he murmurs in a gravelly tone that makes Tony’s heart rate jump. There’s a pause, and then: “Open your mouth.”

This does make Tony hesitate. He frowns and can’t help the question that starts to escape his lips. “What’re…”

“Hey.” Now Bruce’s voice is kind, and he rests a comforting hand on Tony’s leg. “It’s just me.”

He’s right. Tony has no reason not to trust him. His insides squirm a little, but he does as he’s told. Immediately, a piece of fruit touches his lips, making him flinch slightly. But he quickly relaxes and lets Bruce place the blueberry in his mouth. He chews slowly, letting himself get accustomed to this new sensation.

By the time he swallows, he already feels calmer. He takes a few breaths, waiting and listening, and then he hears Bruce shift to pick up another piece. He smells the aroma of orange before it touches his lips, so he doesn’t startle this time, just automatically opens his mouth to eat.

They continue like this for a short while, neither of them speaking, Tony waiting patiently for Bruce to give him a morsel every so often. It’s unexpectedly pleasant, letting Bruce take charge of even something as small as this. It’s a surrender unlike anything Tony’s experienced before, this feeling of putting himself in another’s hands for this, letting them set the pace and choose what he’ll eat. Without realizing it, he switches off and stops thinking about anything besides the freeing feeling of being in Bruce’s charge as Bruce tends to this simple action. With his eyes closed and hands out of the way, there’s nothing else in the world to focus on. It’s a huge relief, relaxing and exciting in a way he can’t explain. He just knows he likes it. Each time he opens his mouth to accept a bite, his stomach does a pleasant little backflip. He doesn’t want this to end.

Eventually, Bruce stands up. He hasn’t told Tony he can move, and Tony isn’t keen to yet anyway. So he waits quietly, eyes closed and hands clasped behind the back of his chair, hoping the moment isn’t over. He’s pleasantly surprised when Bruce straddles his lap and sits down, draping his arms around Tony’s shoulders. Eyes still closed, Tony tilts his face up at Bruce and smiles slightly, not knowing exactly what Bruce will do, but strangely, perfectly content not knowing. It’s a feeling he’s not used to in the rest of his life, where he likes to know as much as possible all the time.

His water glass touches his lips, so he takes a sip.

“You can move your hands now, and open your eyes,” Bruce says a moment later.

“I…” Tony begins. And then huffs a shy laugh in spite of himself. “I don’t want to,” he admits quietly.

Bruce doesn’t laugh. His fingers feather through Tony’s damp hair. “It’s okay. You don’t have to. Do you want to eat some more?”

Tony thinks a moment, then nods. He slowly eats the blueberry Bruce feeds him, then expels a long breath that takes the last of his stress with it. He’s much more relaxed now than he was even in the shower, as wonderful as that was. Once again, he’s amazed at Bruce for somehow knowing just what he needs.

A short while later, he finally opens his eyes and looks up at Bruce still straddled on his lap. Bruce’s still-damp curls are stuck to his forehead and he’s giving Tony a warm, loving look.

“Looking good,” Bruce says as he smiles fondly down at Tony. Tony feels a lump in his throat.

“You said I should tell you if there’s something I like?” Tony begins. He suddenly feels self-conscious. He’s not used to saying things like this, but he makes himself speak, even if he can’t look Bruce straight in the eye. “I liked this.”

Bruce has a groundcherry in his hand, which he now holds out toward Tony. Tony opens his mouth and gazes up at Bruce as he places the yellow fruit between Tony’s lips. He’ll never tire of the way Bruce is looking back at him right now. He chews and swallows, and then his heart flutters as Bruce leans down for a gentle kiss on his mouth.

When they return to Bruce’s bed a little while later, Tony quickly falls into an easy, dreamless sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In mechanical engineering, “couple moment” is the torque produced by two equal but opposite forces acting on an object causing it to rotate (e.g. when you pull down on one side of a steering wheel and push up on the other to make it turn).
> 
> That's another chatty chapter done with. Just needed a scene to show their developing relationship before getting to more sexytimes. Which are coming soon.


	5. Delayed Supercriticality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Bruce hang out alone after a mission, chat a little about expectations, and then get together for some more fun a couple days later. Tony trusts Bruce with something he couldn’t before, and Bruce does what he promised last time they were together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to my beta readers for helping with this chapter: [44TayLo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/44TayLo), who read an early draft and gave feedback that sent it in a much better direction than it was headed, and [ellewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellewrites), who was there to help me add more feels and other great details, as well as listen to my agonizing over minute wordings and other minor points. Thank youuuu!

Late the next morning, Tony and Bruce are in the middle of a leisurely breakfast when they get the call to assemble for a mission. For the next seven hours, the whole team is occupied with a legion of flying mechanical weapons unleashed on the city of Atlanta by some disgruntled engineer clearly looking to go down in a blaze of glory. Five and a half hours in, there’s a code green, and Hulk makes an appearance to hunt down and finish off the remaining enemies which had fled to the outskirts of the city.

When it’s all over, the team trudges back to the quinjet, Tony and Steve helping a half-naked Bruce stumble aboard. Steve must notice the affectionate looks shared between Tony and Bruce as Tony helps his exhausted boyfriend get dressed, but to Tony’s relief, he says nothing. Neither of them has mentioned anything to the team yet. They haven’t even discussed how they’ll bring it up. Tony isn’t against them knowing, but right now he’s still enjoying sharing this with only Bruce. Everything will be different once the others find out.

Bruce is a little out of it, so he’s content to sit there and let Tony basically dress him. Tony doesn’t exactly enjoy seeing Bruce so worn out, but he’s glad to be able to take care of him this way, especially considering the wonderful ways Bruce takes care of him now. Normally it’s Cap or Clint who helps Bruce post-transformation. Not because Tony didn’t want to before. Quite the contrary; he didn’t want any of his feelings for Bruce to show, so he kept his distance when Bruce was vulnerable after a Hulk-out.

Life is pretty fucking great right now, he thinks to himself as the quinjet takes off and Bruce’s head lolls onto his shoulder. 

During the flight back, Tony informs Jarvis of their ETA, so that when the team arrives at the tower, large bags of delivery from several of their favorite restaurants are waiting in the kitchen on the common floor. Everyone is beat, and starving, so they serve themselves from the assorted containers before wandering away to drape themselves on various pieces of furniture around the sitting area and eat silently.

Steve checks his phone. “Fury wants us in the conference room for a debrief tomorrow at oh nine hundred. That work for everyone?”

There are mumbles of assent from everyone in the room except Bruce, who doesn’t lift his head from the falafel and fattoush he’s devouring. Tony has to suppress a fond smile at the other man’s single-mindedness. Bruce is normally a slow, almost meditative eater. But post-transformation, he eats like a ravenous animal, and the image is way more adorable than it has any right to be.

When Bruce finishes his food, he’s done in. He stands up and finally gives his attention to the team. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to turn in early. ‘Night everyone.”

The others bid him goodnight. He turns to leave, but not before giving Tony a discreet look, which Tony takes to mean he can follow Bruce if he wants.

“Me, too. Hold the elevator, Banner.” Tony stands up and looks at the others. “Oh, and Jarvis’ll upload my suit’s footage to the server before the debrief if you need it for your reports. G‘night.” He tries to sound nonchalant, but he doesn’t miss Steve’s look before he turns to follow Bruce.

When they’re safely in the elevator, he leans in to give Bruce a light kiss. “How you feeling?”

“Not bad. Well. A little sore. Pretty tired. And a killer headache.”

“Ouch. You call that ‘not bad’?”

“Believe me, I’ve woken up in a worse state plenty of times.”

“Touché. Still, that’s shitty. Would you rather be alone tonight?” Maybe Tony misinterpreted Bruce’s look.

Bruce wraps his arms around Tony’s waist. “On the contrary. I don’t…well…” He looks a little embarrassed, but plows on: “I don’t like being alone after a transformation. I kind of crave…physical contact. I’m not sure why. I wasn’t comfortable mentioning it before, for obvious reasons.” He tightens his hold on Tony. “But I suspect it’s not something you’ll mind helping me out with now?”

“You suspect right.” Tony drapes his arms around Bruce’s shoulders, happy to give him the contact he needs, if also a little sad to think of him not getting what he needed after his other transformations these past many months. “I’ve got nowhere to be. So let’s crash on the couch, find a terrible movie to mock, and fall asleep in the middle of it.”

Bruce smiles. “Deal.”

The elevator opens at Bruce’s floor and they step out.

“Let’s grab a quick shower first.” 

“You trying to tell me I smell?” Tony deadpans. Both he and Bruce are covered in dirt and dried sweat from the day’s exertions. Of course they smell.

Bruce puts on an equally deadpan expression, but his lip twitches with suppressed mirth. “I’m not _trying._ I _am_ telling you. You’re pretty rank, Stark.”

Apparently when Bruce is exhausted, he takes a leaf from Tony’s book of snark. Tony likes it. “ _You_ should talk,” he counters with a laugh as they head to the bathroom. “You’ve still got that musky Hulk odor clinging to you.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

“…Am I that obvious?”

Fifteen minutes later, after a hot shower, Tony is sitting on the couch in a bathrobe with Bruce stretched out beside him, his head in Tony’s lap. Tony is idly running his fingers through Bruce’s damp hair with one hand while scrolling through a movie list on the TV with the other.

“You know…” He stops scrolling for a moment to look down at Bruce. “We’ll have to say something to the team soon. Cap’s onto us.”

Bruce sighs. “I know. But let’s not do it at the debrief. It’s none of SHIELD’s business. We’ll tell the team privately.”

Tony was thinking the same thing but he didn’t expect Bruce to feel that way, too. “You think SHIELD knowing will cause problems?”

Bruce doesn’t answer right away. He shifts onto his back so he’s looking up at Tony, and sighs again. “I might be wrong. But I can’t help but think they’ll try to insert themselves into our business if they find out I’m in a relationship. They’ll want answers about how I can be sure it’s safe. They’ll think you’re being reckless. They might think it’s their right to make decisions for us, for ‘safety and security’ reasons. And I’m not willing to give them any explanations about us. I’ve compromised enough of my privacy for them already. We both have. I want our relationship to be just that: ours.” He regards Tony carefully before adding, “Is that alright?”

Tony is quick to reassure him. “Yes, it’s very alright. I’m just surprised you feel the same way I do. I thought you’d want to be all above board.”

“Normally I probably would. If it really was a question of security, it would be different. But it’s not.” He takes Tony’s hand. “We’re fine. We know we’re fine. We’ll tell the team because they’re our friends. But fuck SHIELD.”

“Fuck SHIELD, huh?” Tony grins and kisses Bruce’s hand. “Y’know, I think I’m having a bad influence on you.”

“That’s okay.” Bruce returns the smile and rolls back onto his side to face the TV. “It goes both ways. I think my terrible taste in movies is rubbing off on you. Put on the Super Mario Brothers movie.”

“Ooh, good choice.”

Exhausted, they fall asleep less than fifteen minutes into the movie, Tony’s fingers still half-buried in Bruce’s curls.

When the credits are rolling, they wake up just long enough to drag themselves to Bruce’s bed, shedding their bathrobes before they climb under the covers. Bruce shuffles backward to snuggle close to Tony, apparently still craving physical contact since his Hulk-out. Tony wraps his arm around him and kisses his head, silently vowing that he’ll always be available for Bruce in the hours after a transformation, whatever other commitments he has to cancel.

* * *

 On their way to the debriefing in the morning, they make plans to get together again.

“I’ve got some lab work to catch up on with my intern tonight,” Bruce begins as they step into the elevator, “but what are you doing tomorrow night?”

Tony, who had another night of deep, restful sleep, is in a playful mood this morning. He looks Bruce in the eye and answers, “Whatever you want me to, honey.”

Bruce expels his breath in a sudden burst of air, and Tony’s lips struggle against an impish grin at the effect of his words on his boyfriend.

“Fuck, Tony. That’s not fair.” Bruce’s eyes are full of lust and he looks on the verge of jumping Tony right there in the elevator. He backs up to the opposite wall and takes a deep breath. Tony finds himself having to do the same; it’s not easy to behave when Bruce is looking at him like _that._  

“Alright,” Bruce manages when he regains his composure. “Tomorrow. What time?”

“Eight works.”

Bruce nods. “Eight it is.” Then he gives Tony a pointed look. “Don’t be late this time.”

“Late? I was only like…three minutes late last time.”

“Mm. And it was three carefully-calculated minutes, wasn’t it? Trying not to seem too eager?”

Tony stares. He’s so surprised that Bruce has seen right through him that he doesn’t respond right away. And that’s all the response Bruce needs.

“I thought so. But from now on, no more calculating, okay? No more fashionably late.” He closes the distance between them and puts his arms around Tony’s waist, giving him a warm look so he knows this isn’t a rebuke. “It’s just me. No need to overthink things. Just come when you say you will.”

Tony nods, mentally kicking himself. “You’re right. It’s…it was one of my stupid power moves. They’re just a reflex at this point. I barely realize I’m doing it. I’ll try to stop all that. With you, at least.”

“Thank you.”

God, it’s nice to have one person in his life that he can drop his usual façade and just be honest with. Even if it’ll take some practice.

The elevator comes to a stop, and they give each other a quick kiss before breaking apart and stepping out.

* * *

The following evening, after a long day filled with urgent meetings about contracts for the Stark Relief Foundation, Tony steps into the elevator at eight p.m. sharp, once again freshly showered, impeccably groomed, and dressed in his most formal Tony Stark signature style. As the elevator nears Bruce’s floor, he can physically feel the stresses of the day lifting off his shoulders, replaced with the warm anticipation of putting himself in Bruce’s hands for the evening. He thinks back to how tense and nervous he was before stepping out of the elevator that first night, and almost laughs at himself, at how completely different everything is now.

When the doors slide open, Bruce is there waiting, also freshly-showered with slightly damp hair, wearing his usual casual clothing and a blazer. His mouth falls open in pleasant surprise when he sees how Tony is dressed, and he moves in to kiss him. “You shouldn’t have.”

Tony grins. “I know. But I couldn’t resist, since it went over so well last time. I can give you that striptease this time, if you want,” he adds with a wink.

Bruce shakes his head. “Some other time. This time, I’m taking you out of these clothes myself.” He kisses Tony again, then takes a step back and slowly looks him up and down, pupils dilating as he takes in the image before him. 

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, making Tony’s skin tingle. When his gaze returns to Tony’s eyes, Bruce has slipped imperceptibly into that dominant persona which instantly reels Tony straight into the palm of his hand. 

“You asked me for something, after last time.” His eyes stay fixed on Tony’s. “You asked me to fuck you this time.”

Tony swallows hard at the words and his heart skips a beat. He just nods, unable to think of anything coherent to say as his blood starts rushing southward at the thought of being fucked by Bruce.

“Do you still want that?”

Tony finds his voice. “God, yes,” he breathes, almost before Bruce has finished his question. He adores Bruce for going out of his way to check that Tony hasn’t changed his mind, but right now Tony is pretty sure that he’s never been more certain of anything in his life.

Bruce lets out a soft laugh at Tony’s enthusiastic response, then takes his hand and leads him down the hall. Tony’s heart is pounding so hard in anticipation as they near the bedroom that he can feel the pulse of it in his arc reactor.

When they enter the bedroom, Bruce turns around and gives Tony another long, unraveling look. God, Tony could get completely lost in those dark eyes of his.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he asks, more to himself than to Tony, and Tony swallows, unsure of how to process such a question. He’s been wondering the same thing lately.

Bruce places a hand on Tony’s chest and gently walks him backward until his back touches the wall, then reaches up to unknot Tony’s tie. Tony lifts his chin a little to make it easier, and tries not to squirm when Bruce’s knuckles lightly brush his neck. Fuck, he can’t wait to feel Bruce’s hands on him again tonight. But at the same time, he also wants to be able to touch Bruce this time, make him feel good, take his breath away. Should he ask? How would he even phrase it?

Before he can decide, Bruce’s hands go still and he looks Tony shrewdly in the eye.

“Tell me.”

Wow, Bruce must be a mind reader. Either that or Tony isn’t as good at keeping his thoughts off his face as he thought he was. Well, he hasn’t had this particular thought in quite a while, so maybe that’s why his expression gave it away. In any case, Bruce is waiting for an answer. Tony takes a deep breath.

“You…said I should tell you if there’s something I want.”

“That’s right. I don’t want you to hold back from asking for things. I can’t promise the answer will always be yes.” He strokes Tony’s cheek and adds quietly, “But tell me. What do you want, Tony?”

“Well.” Tony bites his lower lip and gives a shy smile. “I really feel like blowing you right now.”

Evidently Bruce wasn’t expecting that. He quirks an eyebrow and smiles back, as a slight flush tints his cheeks.

“Well. That is an easy request to grant.” He continues stroking Tony’s cheek, the feather-lightness of his fingers forcing Tony to suppress a shiver. “Especially since I’ve already felt a little of what this sexy mouth can do.” He softly runs his thumb across Tony’s lips, reminding him of how he let Bruce slip it into his mouth that first night for him to suck and lick as he got himself off. His dick hardens a little more in his pants at the memory.

Bruce continues: “We’ll get to that. Once I get you out of these.” He nods at Tony’s clothes.

Tony’s tie is undone, so Bruce takes it off his neck and tosses it aside without looking. His eyes drop to Tony’s chest and he unbuttons both his jacket and shirt without removing either one. He just leaves them hanging slightly open, clearly not as impatient to get Tony naked this time as he was last time.

But when he goes to work on Tony’s belt, his hands quicken just a fraction, fumbling slightly with the buckle, betraying his mounting excitement, and it makes Tony’s own arousal escalate in turn.

He nudges the insides of Tony’s feet with his own foot to encourage him to spread his legs a little. Then he unzips Tony’s fly and slides his pants down just enough to reach in with no preamble and pull out his fully-hard cock, making him gasp in surprise.

“Hands at your sides, palms against the wall,” Bruce orders gently, and Tony obeys without hesitation. Then Bruce slowly, too slowly, starts stroking his hand lazily up and down Tony’s shaft, with not quite enough friction to get him going, but still enough to make him squirm a little and for his breathing to get a bit more irregular. His skin prickles as he imagines how much more squirming he’s going to be doing once Bruce really gets his hands on him.

“You’re always so good for me.” Bruce’s eyes sear into Tony’s as he speaks, and Tony feels that look right down to his toes. It somehow makes him feel relaxed and totally electrified at the same time. “Are you going to be good for me tonight?” His tone is silky smooth, almost—almost _dangerous,_ and Tony forces down another shiver. Those artistic fingers continue to ghost ever so lightly up and down, teasing, keeping Tony at a torturously low level of stimulation as he struggles to be still and patient.

“Yes.” He flushes slightly when he hears his voice crack on the single syllable, but Bruce takes no notice.

“You’re going to obey every one of my orders?”

“Yes.” The word comes out a little more confident this time, though he’s fairly certain Bruce can tell anyway how completely helpless (and loving it) he is right now.

“Good.” Bruce takes Tony’s hands in his own and pulls him away from the wall, steering him over to sit down on the edge of the bed. He kneels in front of him and and just looks up at his face a moment, like he’s admiring a beautifully-wrapped present that’s just for him.

“Do you know why I like you in a suit so much?” he asks, taking hold of each of Tony’s feet in turn to slide off his perfectly-polished shoes. “It’s not just that it makes you look sexy. Though it does,” he adds, removing Tony’s socks and then pausing to look up at him again. 

Tony shakes his head. He assumed it was just the sex factor. That’s what it seemed to be for everyone else he’s been with.

Bruce stands up and takes Tony by the shoulders, guiding him to his feet and to the side so he can step behind him. Tony remembers to keep his eyes forward this time without being told.

“It’s because it’s such a temptation to get you _out of_ these clothes.” He slips off Tony’s suit jacket and moves back in front of him, taking hold of his left wrist to unfasten his cufflink. “To strip off the ‘Tony Stark: billionaire businessman’ armor…” The other cufflink comes off, and Bruce is now sliding the silk shirt off Tony’s shoulders. He tosses it aside and reaches for Tony’s still-unzipped pants, and Tony sucks in a breath as Bruce pushes them and his boxers over his ass so they drop freely to the floor. “So I can see just Tony. _My_ Tony.”

He steps right into Tony’s space now, and Tony swallows against the tightening in his throat at those last two words. Bruce’s eyes settle on his face and he breathes a little sigh of contentment. 

“There you are.” 

He pulls Tony in for a long, claiming kiss, and Tony melts into it utterly helplessly, his world stripped down to nothing more than the feeling of Bruce’s mouth on his.

Bruce said he was _his._ Tony didn’t even realize how badly he wanted to hear that until Bruce said it. And never would have guessed just how _right_ it would sound when he said it. Tony’s chest is full to bursting, and a feeling of warmth settles over him as his fears and insecurities melt away. He didn’t think Bruce (or anyone) would be able to make him feel quite like this again. So _wanted._

Bruce eventually breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull away; instead he pulls Tony closer so he can whisper close to his ear, in a voice thick with lust, “Kneel for me, gorgeous. Hands behind your back.”

Tony has to bite back a moan at the command, those words, that _tone_. He’s aching to get his lips around Bruce’s cock, to make Bruce feel good like he’s been making Tony feel good. He quickly kicks his pants off from around his ankles and turns back to watch Bruce open his belt and fly and pull out his very hard dick. He enthusiastically obeys the order to kneel, but as soon as his hands are behind his back, an old memory bursts into his mind unexpectedly, and he falters.

“Uh…”

Bruce notices his hesitation. He sits down on the bed in front of him with a look of concern, his dominance cast aside for the moment. “What’s wrong? Tell me, Tony.”

“It’s just, um—please don’t…hold my head. I don’t, uh…”

“I understand. I won’t, I promise,” Bruce assures him. “Or how about we do something else—”

“Oh no, no way,” Tony heads off Bruce’s train of thought. “I want to. Very much. I’ll be fine as long as I can…move freely.” At Bruce’s unconvinced look, he adds, “It’s alright, Bruce. I _want_ to. You can trust me, that I’ll tell you if I want to stop.” 

Bruce relents. “Okay. You’re right. I do trust you.”

Instead of standing, Bruce stays seated and leans back a little, putting his hands on the bed behind him for support. His hands won’t be anywhere near Tony’s head in this position. Tony looks up at him again, immensely grateful for his thoughtfulness.

Not wanting to delay Bruce’s pleasure any longer, his eyes now focus on the still-fully-hard cock in front of him, and he scoots forward to kneel between Bruce’s legs. With his hands behind his back, it somehow feels much more intimate and personal than the casual blow jobs he’s given partners in the past.

He lowers his head and parts his lips just a little, gently kissing the head of Bruce’s cock, and is immediately rewarded with a sigh of pleasure from Bruce. He opens his lips further to take the tip into his mouth, swirling his tongue in slow, teasing circles, determined to make Bruce feel even a fraction as good as he’s made Tony feel so far. As he works, he can’t help but imagine how he must look from Bruce’s point of view, what a sight he must be, kneeling naked in front of him, slightly unsteady with his hands obediently clasped behind his back, taking Bruce’s cock between his lips, _wanting_ it. The whole image just lights up his brain with arousal. He’s exactly where he wants to be right now, safe in Bruce’s charge, _choosing_ to give him pleasure, instead of having it taken from him.

After swirling and sucking for a few moments, he slides his mouth off of Bruce and tilts his head to give a few long, slow licks and sucks to the underside of his length. When he draws him into his mouth again, he pushes deeper this time and relishes the sound of Bruce’s low groan and the feeling of his thigh muscles tensing.

“Fuck, Tony—that’s perfect. God, you feel so good.”

Tony hums in response to the praise, and starts sucking in earnest, moving his head up and down, taking Bruce as deeply as he can, then pulling back almost all the way so he can give the head some extra attention before drawing him back in deep again. It’s been a while, but he used to be pretty good at this, and he’s fairly certain he remembers some of the tricks. Above him, Bruce’s quickening breaths confirm it. He flicks his eyes upward and sees Bruce watching him through half-lidded eyes, his jaw slack, breath coming in irregular puffs and gasps. Tony forgets his own arousal, thinking only of making Bruce feel good, of swiping his tongue just right along the sensitive spot under his tip, then pushing down deep to suck and swallow. 

A few moments later, he tastes the salty pre-come on his tongue heralding Bruce’s orgasm and redoubles his efforts, eager to bring Bruce all the way. He’s never been the biggest fan of swallowing, but this time, he wants to swallow every drop.

“That’s enough, Tony,” Bruce says suddenly, putting a halt to his ministrations. Tony pulls away and looks up at him, unsure if he did something wrong, but Bruce’s face is pure bliss. What’s the problem, then?

“That was—very good.” Bruce is nearly panting, and with some difficulty, he tucks his cock back into his pants and closes his fly and belt. “Next time—and there will be many next times”—he gives Tony a look which immediately makes Tony’s half-hard cock fill again, “I’ll let you finish the job. But I said I’d fuck you tonight, and I intend to.”

Of course. Tony almost completely forgot about that in the heat of the moment. His face burns a little at the realization, but he forces himself not to look away from Bruce.

Bruce gazes down at him a moment longer, stroking his cheek, then says quietly, “Tip your head back.” 

Tony does, by now used to the quick little somersault his insides do whenever he submits like this to one of Bruce’s soft commands, though it’s no less gratifying each time. Bruce’s hand moves to the back of Tony’s head to gently grip a handful of his hair, just holding it, not pulling. He leans down slowly and sucks and licks at the soft flesh of Tony’s exposed neck as Tony, still kneeling with his hands behind him, struggles not to squirm at the sensation even as he tilts his head further back, offering more of himself to Bruce.

Eventually Bruce pulls away and lets go of Tony’s hair, standing up. He helps Tony to his feet and then nods toward the bed. “Kneel on the bed, facing me.”

Tony complies, his nerves buzzing as he scoots to the middle of the king-sized mattress and turns around to face Bruce, folding his legs under himself.

Bruce slips off his blazer and tosses it aside, then starts rolling up his shirtsleeves one at a time, exposing his forearms. Why that visual is so fucking hot, Tony can’t say, but his heart rate and breathing speed up as he watches, unable to take his eyes off of Bruce.

When his sleeves are rolled up to just below his elbows, Bruce grabs the lube from the night table and circles the bed to climb on behind Tony, who stays facing forward and tenses up waiting for Bruce’s touch. It comes quickly enough as a soft hand to the back of his neck, gently coaxing him to bend forward.

“You’re going to lean down, all the way. You can rest your head on your arms.”

Tony lets Bruce guide him forward until his face and chest are touching the bed and his ass is in the air. He turns his head to the side and lets it settle onto his folded arms, as Bruce hums approvingly and purrs, “Yes. That’s it. Just how I want you,” and runs his palm down Tony’s spine toward his ass. Tony arches into the soothing touch as much as the softly-spoken words.

Bruce’s warm hand caresses his ass and hips for a few seconds. "I've been thinking about this ass since the last time we played together," he says, a teasing lilt to his tone. His hand moves to ghost teasingly over his balls, and Tony sucks in a breath to try to keep still. When it moves lower, feathering along the underside of his cock, it’s all he can do to bite his lip and avoid letting out an embarrassingly loud moan.

“Hey.” Bruce’s tone is a bit firmer than Tony has yet heard. He opens his eyes, which he didn’t even realize had fluttered closed. “Remember what I said last time. Don’t stifle yourself. I don’t ever want you to hold back with me. I like hearing you.”

Tony expels his breath. It’s not his first instinct, allowing himself to be vocal during sex, unless it’s deliberate, like when he would casually talk dirty to whomever he was fucking that day, to keep things light and distant. But he remembers how much Bruce liked it last time, and how much sexier things got when Tony shed his inhibitions. He nods.

“Good,” replies Bruce, opening the lube bottle. He squeezes a generous amount into his hand, then reaches between Tony’s spread legs to take hold of his cock, making him jump and suck in a startled breath. Bruce gives him a few long, purposeful strokes, before his other hand comes up to cup his balls.

“Oh—fuck!”

His whole body clenches at the contrasting sensations of one hand jerking him firmly and the other one very gently holding his balls, rolling them a little in his fingers, just gratuitously touching Tony as intimately as he wants. It’s everything Tony wants, too. It’s intoxicating, feeling Bruce casually take hold of him like this, like he _belongs_ to him _._

He’s already getting close. But just as his breathing really starts to pick up, Bruce removes both hands from him, replaced instead with a single, slick finger at his opening, circling lightly, teasing, with seemingly no intention of entering. The sudden lack of real stimulation pulls a frustrated sound from his lips.

“Patience,” Bruce chides. “We’ll get there…eventually. You know, I wasn’t planning to make you beg tonight. But at this rate, it may come to that. Because I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

It almost sounds like a _threat,_ and Tony is fucking here for it.

Bruce idly circles his finger for a moment longer, then slips it into Tony’s ass without warning. Tony lets out an unabashed moan at the sudden intrusion, at just how fucking good it feels. Bruce’s finger goes right to work, curling to hit Tony’s prostate just right, making his muscles contract and his cock twitch and strain, begging for touch. He skillfully works his finger in and out of Tony for a few minutes, perfectly aimed to drive Tony up the wall, until Tony’s hips are rocking involuntarily with the motion of Bruce’s finger inside him and garbled obscenities are tumbling from his lips.

“Holy fuck. Oh God…God, _fuck,_ I—”

Bruce finally pulls out his finger, and a little whine escapes Tony at its absence. Bruce just chuckles as he wipes lube from his hands with a tissue, before bringing his hands back to Tony’s ass, thighs and lower back to caress and squeeze some more.

"You like this. Being teased." Tony can hear the smile in his voice. It’s not a question; Bruce knows exactly what he does to Tony.

Tony just whimpers again in response. He can’t deny it, he does like it. He _loves_ it. Loves being tested, challenged, teased to his limit and never disobeying, showing Bruce just how good he can be. Letting Bruce make him _his._

“Next time, I think I’ll take you just like this, bent over, your pretty ass displayed for me. But not tonight. Tonight, I want to look at you while I take you apart.” He taps Tony’s hip. “On your back.”

All the muscles in Tony’s body are so taut that it takes a moment for him to obey. He does, and lies there panting, his brain foggy and sluggish, only able to concentrate on the feeling of Bruce’s hand sliding up his thigh and across his stomach, possessively.

“You’re incredible, Tony,” Bruce says affectionately. “Do you want more?”

“Yes, _please,_ yes.”

Later, he might be embarrassed at the borderline begging _,_ but right now he’s never felt so helpless and open and desperate to be taken before.

Bruce wastes no time standing up and undressing. Tony’s heart pounds against his chest as he watches Bruce strip off his clothes with quite a bit less care than he took when stripping Tony. He’s very good at maintaining his calm, dominant exterior, but little tells like this show Tony that Bruce is just as eager to fuck him as Tony is to be fucked.

Tony’s knees are bent up. When Bruce is naked, he leans over, wraps an arm around each of Tony’s thighs, and effortlessly pulls him to the edge of the bed, and Tony’s mind blanks out momentarily at the hotness of Bruce’s unexpected strength.

Bruce grabs a condom from the end table, slipping it on and then reopening the bottle of lube. Tony lies there watching him prepare, still catching his breath, the only thing going through his mind being how wonderful all this is, and how much more wonderful it’s going to get now that they’re together. It’s a weird feeling that he’s not sure he’s ever felt before. It almost feels nostalgic, but no, that’s not the right word. He can’t say that he’s ‘missed’ this, because you can’t miss what you never had. And he’s definitely never had _anything_ like _this._ But it feels…like he’s nineteen again. Almost like it’s his first time. Or maybe, what he wishes his first time had been.

All he knows is that this, now that he has it, is making him very…happy.

Bruce spreads the lube onto himself and Tony, then tosses the bottle aside and puts a hand behind one of Tony’s knees to lift his hips a little. Using his other hand, he lines himself up and pushes into him _very_ slowly. Tony gasps as he’s breached, because fuck, Bruce’s cock feels so _good,_ but it’s a lot to take. Bruce takes his time, moving almost painfully slowly, one knee on the bed and his other foot resting on the floor for stability. Tony breathes through it, taking in the look of bliss on Bruce’s beautiful face as he pushes deeper.

When he’s all the way in, he breathes a long sigh, ending with a faintly-whispered “Tony,” which makes Tony’s skin prickle all over to hear. Then he starts moving his cock very shallowly and gently in and out of Tony, keeping the pace slow and controlled. It’s not enough stimulation at this depth or angle to really get him going yet, so he relaxes into it, savoring the sensation, loving how it feels to be filled by Bruce.

He shivers a little when Bruce lightly trails a finger of his free hand down the outside of his bent-up leg toward his ass, electrifying his skin and sending a series of jolts straight to his cock.

“It feels amazing, to be inside you,” Bruce says softly. “Feels so good to fuck you.”

Tony wants to answer that it feels good to _be_ fucked, but all that comes out is an inarticulate groan as he expels a shaky breath. Bruce gives him a little smile, and runs his hand slowly up Tony’s ribcage, squeezing his nipple just a little and making him gasp and moan again.

“So responsive,” he says. “I love that about you. I love the sounds you make.” His hand is moving freely around Tony’s chest and stomach now, feeling him all over, even brushing over his arc reactor, because he’s not afraid to touch him there anymore, he knows Tony trusts him that way. “And I love how your body feels…inside and out. You’re perfect, Tony. And you’re mine. _All_ of you is mine.”

Tony stares into Bruce’s warm, dark eyes and his breath catches in his throat. Christ. Bruce is fucking him pretty tamely right now, almost vanilla, but combined with the way he’s touching him and speaking to him, like he _owns_ him and _wants_ him and—and _cares_ about him—has him feeling almost overwhelmed by how deeply he craves this submission to Bruce. He feels completely inflamed, full to bursting, positive that could come right now, dick untouched, if Bruce ordered him to.

But Bruce isn’t done with him yet, doesn’t seem to be in a hurry at all. Tony grips and releases bunches of bedsheets in his sweaty fists and tries to be patient as he takes what Bruce is giving him.

“Put your hands above your head,” Bruce says, noticing how his hands can’t stay still, “and keep them there.”

Tony lets go of the sheets and is about to obey, when a much better idea occurs to him. He doesn’t even have to think about it. He’s ready for this. He wants it.

He offers his hands to Bruce. “Would you?”

Bruce goes still, mid-thrust, and looks at Tony uncertainly, searching his face for signs of doubt. “Are you sure?”

Tony smiles. “Oh yeah.”

A grin slowly breaks over Bruce’s face and he takes Tony’s wrists in his hands. In one fluid motion, he leans forward and pins Tony’s arms over his head while thrusting the rest of the way in and tilting his head down to kiss Tony’s still-smiling mouth. At the same time, Tony’s hips roll forward and he wraps his legs around Bruce’s middle, drawing him deeper.

“Okay?” Bruce asks.

“God, yes,” Tony breathes.

Bruce smiles and kisses him once more. His hips start moving again, plunging deep into Tony and then withdrawing most of the way, over and over again in a slow, steady rhythm. This new angle makes Tony gasp with pleasure each time Bruce’s cock hits his prostate head-on. Bruce’s hands are pressing hard on his wrists, and even though Tony knows he can pull away if he wants, it’s the last thing on his mind. The pressure makes him feel owned, possessed, in a far deeper and more intimate way than he ever felt before with Gene’s ropes and handcuffs.

He realizes now, with sudden clarity, that that unnamed, addictive feeling he’s been chasing is not to be put at someone’s mercy and _made_ to obey; rather, it’s the feeling of surrendering willingly, of safely putting himself in another’s hands and knowing there’s nothing to fear.

Bruce is still fucking Tony at that slow, deliberate pace, and despite this more stimulating angle, it’s bringing him toward the edge agonizingly slowly, so slowly that he can hardly stand it. He needs more, he needs Bruce to make him come. But he doesn’t want to ask; Bruce is in charge, he wants to let Bruce do what he wants with him. But oh _God—_ the tension inside him is building so slow. He needs release soon.

Bruce sees the conflict on Tony’s face and fixes him with a steely, authoritative look that makes his breath hitch and his insides clench with visceral pleasure. “It wasn’t idle talk, what I said to you the other day. I meant it when I said I’d fuck you as long as you could stand it. And I’m not letting go of you until I do."

He squeezes Tony’s wrists a little harder, and Tony moans with need. He’s sinking fast, desperate to surrender and be good and let Bruce take him as he will. He simultaneously wants this to last forever and craves release in a way he never thought possible. It’s all he can think of, he _needs_ it.

“I need…” he begins, but trails off, unable to articulate it as his thoughts shatter under the overwhelming onslaught of sensations.

“I know what you need.” Bruce is still impossibly calm and collected, as if he isn’t methodically dismantling Tony’s sanity one slow thrust at a time. “And you’ll get it. When I think you need it badly enough.”

That _tone_ in Bruce’s voice forces the air from Tony’s lungs in a shaky moan. His heart feels like it’s stopped beating and he nearly forgets how to breathe. He stares into Bruce’s eyes. This man is taking him to pieces and there’s nothing he can do about it—nothing he _wants_ to do about it—but lie there under him and let it happen.

“Breathe,” Bruce reminds him. “I’ve got you.”

Tony takes a deep, shuddering breath. His arms are trembling in place under Bruce’s weight. Moving them is out of the question; Bruce ordered him to keep them up, and he will. But he doesn’t know how much longer Bruce will keep him here, creeping so, so slowly toward the finish line.

A few more slow, gentle rolls of Bruce’s hips and Tony can't help himself. He’s going to have to beg. Begging was never exactly fun or pleasurable before, but Bruce is different. He’ll make it good, he won’t drag it out. And Tony just can’t hold it back anymore.

But Bruce once again seems to be one step ahead of Tony’s needs. Before Tony can open his mouth to utter the “please” that’s on the tip of his tongue, Bruce crosses his wrists above his head so he can hold them in one hand. With his other hand, he reaches down and finally closes around Tony’s cock, the firm contact making Tony’s hips jerk and a little yelp escape him.

He promptly starts stroking him in earnest, his hips speeding up to match the pace, and Tony utters a sound of breathless surprise at the sudden change in sensation. The hand on his cock, along with the perfectly-aimed thrusts Bruce is exacting inside him, are propelling him past that plateau Bruce had him trapped at, hurtling him quickly toward the edge.

He’s emitting a little desperate, plaintive whimper with every breath now, but he hardly even notices; the tension deep inside him is reaching such an impossible pitch that his mind is erased of everything but that.

“Bruce.” It comes out as barely a whisper.

“I’m right here,” Bruce answers, his voice wrecked, and Tony is too far gone to notice that Bruce is coming undone too. “I’m not going anywhere.” He’s nearly panting now but doesn’t slow down the pace at which he’s fucking into Tony. Tony feels his balls start to tighten and knows he’s about to explode.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Bruce repeats. “You’re mine, Tony. You’re mine. And you're so good. So good to me. I don’t—” he swallows—“I don’t deserve you, but I’m going to stay here with you as long as you let me.”

And that’s all it takes. The dam breaks and Tony gasps a moan that’s almost a sob, the orgasm welling up from a depth inside him that he didn’t know existed, pulsing through his cock, his insides where Bruce is thrusting against him, and the over-sensitive nerve endings of his opening, making his whole body shudder and spasm, his back arch and his head tip back into the mattress, while the last clear-thinking part of his brain reminds him to keep his hands where they are.

A few strokes later and Bruce is coming too, and Tony forces his eyes open to watch his beautiful face, even as Bruce’s hand is still working Tony through the last throes of his own orgasm. Everything is a little blurry from the sweat running into his eyes, but he revels in the sound of the groan Bruce lets out as he climaxes.

Bruce is motionless for a few seconds afterward, looking perfect with his eyes closed and his curls hanging down over his forehead. He slowly opens his eyes and moves his hands so they’re braced on the bed on either side of Tony’s head. He and Tony just look at each other a moment in awe, catching their breath, saying nothing. Then Bruce leans down to give him a long, soft kiss.

Tony doesn’t even flinch when Bruce pulls out of him, so relaxed and exhausted is he. He’s too spent to move, so he stays on his back, knees still bent up and legs apart, hands still over his head, and watches languidly through half-closed eyes as Bruce cleans himself off and disposes of the tissues and condom in the wastebasket. 

Bruce picks up a damp washcloth from the night table, and Tony closes his eyes to savor the feeling of Bruce tenderly cleaning him up as usual. But instead, he starts slightly as the cold cloth is run over his face. It’s only then that he realizes not all the moisture he felt on his face was sweat. Some of it was tears. Actual tears, shed from nothing more than being passionately fucked by his boyfriend.

Well. Looks like there’s a first time for everything.

More surprising is that he doesn’t even care. Maybe later he’ll feel horrified and mortified, but right now he just can’t bring himself to care. Vaguely he wonders _why_ he doesn’t care, but even that thought drifts away when Bruce lowers the cloth to his stomach and groin. A long, contented sigh escapes him as he lies there, limp and sated, letting Bruce slowly and attentively clean him off with the cool cloth. When Bruce is done, he crawls onto the bed beside Tony and slowly eases Tony’s arms down from their position above his head, rubbing his shoulders a bit to relieve the tension. Tony’s eyes prick as tears threaten to return at the way Bruce is so careful about tending to his comfort. Finally, Bruce helps him shift further onto the bed so he can stretch out his legs, and then lies on his side next to him, propping his head on his hand and gazing down at him lovingly.

Tony opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again. Bruce notices and looks at him expectantly. Tony tries again, but nothing comes out. He really doesn’t know what he wants to say. He’s not exactly thinking coherently yet. And even if he was, what could he possibly say about the most mind-shattering sex he’s ever had in his (considerably experienced) life? His sheer vulnerability, which would’ve freaked him out in any other situation, somehow has the opposite effect right here and now with Bruce. It just feels _right._ He feels twenty years younger, transported back to the first time he discovered how much he liked being dominated. Except this time, the outcome is so, so much better.

His mind is way too sluggish to express all this to Bruce, so he just shakes his head and gives a lazy shrug. “I got nothing.” His words slur a bit.

Bruce gives a short laugh and runs his free hand along Tony’s chest and stomach. “It’s alright. No need to say anything.” He leans down for a kiss, and studies Tony’s face a moment before adding, “This was pretty intense for you. I made it a little harder than the other times. Later when you’re back to yourself, we’ll talk about what you liked and didn’t like.”

Tony lifts a hand to Bruce’s face and hushes him with a clumsy finger to his lips. “Shh. No. It was good. Every minute,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse.

Bruce takes Tony’s hand and kisses it. “I’m sure you think so. But you’re down pretty far right now.”

What does that mean, ‘down pretty far’?

The confusion must be evident on Tony’s face, because Bruce smiles and leans down to kiss him again. “It’s okay, love. We’ll talk in a bit. Here.” He rolls over to reach for the water bottle on his night table. “Take a drink. Then rest.” He helps Tony prop himself up onto his elbows and holds the bottle to his lips for him to take a few sips. Bruce takes a sip for himself and tosses the bottle aside before pulling the blanket over them both and gathering Tony tightly into his arms.

As soon as Tony’s naked body is pressed against Bruce’s, his cheek leaning against Bruce’s soft chest, he starts to feel sleepy. Bruce holds him close, one arm wrapped around his back, idly stroking his thumb back and forth on his skin as Tony drifts off to the comforting rise and fall of Bruce’s chest.

He isn’t sure whether he fell asleep or not, but in any case, it’s a while before he’s conscious enough to move or open his eyes or really be aware of anything aside from the warmth of Bruce’s bare skin. When his eyes finally do flutter open, it’s to the sight of Bruce’s face close to his, looking at him with a face full of affection, and Tony smiles.

“Were you watching me sleep?”

Bruce smiles back shyly. “Maybe.”

“That’s…disgustingly romantic,” Tony teases, and they both chuckle.

Bruce’s laugh fades before Tony’s, though.

“Well…” He’s still smiling but with a bit of nervousness showing through, “It’s about to get more disgustingly romantic. Because I’m going to say something.”

Tony’s heart skips a beat. He has a feeling he knows where this is going.

“I think initially, we were both just thinking that we’d have some fun together,” Bruce says. “We had a mutual attraction. I like Domming, you like subbing. Beyond that…and I won’t speak for you, but…I didn’t let myself think about where this was headed. I just told myself to enjoy it while it lasts.”

He pauses to look at Tony, maybe to make sure he’s not scaring him with what he’s saying. But Tony is smiling, he can’t wait for Bruce to finish.

“Go on,” he prompts Bruce. He presses his lips together, unable to suppress a ridiculously sappy smile as Bruce continues.

“Well. It hasn’t gone quite like I expected. Because this, being with you, like this, and just in general…has been the best, happiest experience of, well, probably my entire life. I think…” he bites his lip a moment, hesitating, but then seems bolstered by the smile still plastered on Tony’s face. “I’m falling in love with you, Tony.”

Tony lets out a relieved, happy breath. His thought process over the past week has gone in much the same way as Bruce’s: starting with giddy infatuation at the things they were doing together, the fun they were having…and then morphing into something deeper. And now, for maybe only the second time in his life, he can honestly say that he’s falling in love.

He puts a hand on the back of Bruce’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

“The feeling is mutual, Bruciebear. I’m not going anywhere, either.”

Now Bruce breathes a sigh of his own, obviously relieved that Tony feels the same way.

“Is that so?” he asks with a grin.

“Yeah, that’s so,” answers Tony, and they both break into laughter at the recollection of that first evening, when Tony casually touched Bruce’s leg to tell him he liked him.

“So we’re going steady,” Tony adds.

Bruce huffs a breathy laugh. “I guess you could say that.”

“And this is going to keep going, huh?”

“If you want.”

“I do want. I want a lot of things, now. Those things I said I wasn’t sure about before? The…y’know, the bondage, blindfolds…” he clears his throat, “…pain…” Saying these words aloud is a little awkward for some reason, and he turns his head to look away from Bruce. But a finger on his chin brings him back to face him. Bruce isn’t letting him put his walls back up just yet.

“Go on…” he prompts, imitating Tony’s words from earlier.

Tony swallows and plows forward. “I wanna try it. All of it. With you. It wasn’t very great, before, with… Well, sometimes it was, but in general it—anyway.” Fuck, he’s babbling. He takes a breath and looks Bruce in the eye. “I think it’ll be good, with you. And I wanna try.” 

Bruce blinks a little, looking a bit emotional at Tony’s frank admission. “I’d like that,” he whispers.

“And there are other things,” continues Tony, starting to get on a roll as he thinks about the future. “Things I never got to do, but wanted to. Things like—well, we can talk about it later. I’ll make a list.” He doesn’t want to get too excited right now, he just wants to relax here with Bruce a little longer.

“Of course.” Bruce squeezes Tony’s hand in his own. “There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter title because it’s related to nuclear physics :D . “Supercriticality” in a nuclear reaction causes the rate of fission to increase exponentially until it’s out of control (like in a nuclear bomb or a reactor meltdown). “Delayed supercriticality” is when this process starts out much more slowly and can’t explode/melt down until a certain amount of time has elapsed. Kind of like what Bruce does to Tony in this chapter :) . 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and for all your lovely comments! <3


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